Alternate Timeline (no curse)
by rylieblu
Summary: What would happen if the curse was never cast? My mind started racing with questions. Why? How? What happens to the characters, and the people they meet along the way? (Captain Swan-Snowing-Outlaw Queen-Red Huntsman)
1. Preface

**A/N:** This is an exercise for myself. A challenge. Can I write anymore? Do I have what it takes to create an interesting story? I do attempt to stay true to canon as much as possible, though you should know that I have chosen not to watch the very last season. I try to stay true to the characters I have included, though that is a challenge as this is a completely different timeline. Feel free to verbally knock me over the head if I pen someone incorrectly. You should know that any children originally caught up in the curse, like Roland, will be older than Emma here.

I have to say, sharing my work has me shaking in my boots. So comment often, as it helps me to learn and grow as an author, and the story will likely shape around your comments. Last but not least, I am gearing up to write a long one, so buckle up, and I hope you enjoy it as much as I enjoy writing.

**Edited for: **Slight grammer issues, but mainly the introduction. This story is turning out differently than I'd originally planned. Go figure.

~Preface~

The big day had arrived. It was the day Snow White and Prince Charming would welcome their first child into the world. It was also the day The Evil Queen would have to make a choice. Not only completely ruining her nemesis' life, but drastically changing hers as well. It was a day many would never forget.

Regina's terrible choice? Her father. She had to weigh the love of her father with the hate of her nemesis. It was a terrible choice for anyone to make, and Regina wasn't sure she could do it. To murder her father, the only person she had left in the world, the only person in her corner, who always believed in her, always wanted what was best for her… all in order for her to enact a terrible curse. Her heart had yet to completely blacken.

She still wanted her revenge, but how far would she go to enact it?

Regina had heard of a Seer, or rather, her mirror had. He'd seen snippets of conversations throughout the realm, and when people started talking about this witch, he had started listening. He selfishly told Regina everything he had learned the previous day, terrified of the curse and what it would mean for him.

That meant that Regina didn't have long to ponder her options. Either act on this new information, or ignore it. She chose to visit this Seer, who 'blessed' her with the memories she would have gotten had she cast the curse. An entire lifetime. Emma. Henry. _Robin_.

In an instant, she hated The Evil Queen, no longer seeing herself in that light, by that name. She refused to let the witch remove these new memories… She no longer had it in her to lose her father and cast the curse.

In a puff of purple smoke, she was home, throwing the curse into the fire, ensuring it's destruction. She then gathered her father, and items she knew she would need to survive, only things she could carry.

That was the day The Evil Queen, and her father, disappeared.

Stories started swirling, as time went by, and families she had formerly harassed started receiving things they had lost at the hands of The Evil Queen.

Some claimed they saw her, off in the distance, a dark cloak covering most of her features, her signature purple magick creating happiness for those she had previously cursed.

None of the stories were verified, however, and no one knew what had happened, exactly, to The Evil Queen. Except for one man in the woods, and his merry men.


	2. Day 1

~Day 1~

17 years, 11 months, and 28 days later…

Emma woke with a start. It was _freezing_.

She wrapped herself up in her blankets, allowing the early morning brain fog to fade away.

Her mind gravitated to her upcoming birthday, along with the ridiculous ball her parents insisted upon. With a ridiculous amount of available men attending. It was only her 18th birthday. Not a big deal at all.

She secretly hoped she was getting sick. Then she would have an excuse to miss her party. But _this_ didn't quite feel like something she was coming down with. It felt unnatural, especially in the middle of summer.

She tried to relax, hoping to go back to sleep. However, an overwhelming sense of dread overcame her thoughts. She sat up, yelping when a shiver attacked her back from the lack of warmth.

She walked over to the window, every step felt like walking barefoot in the snow. It was just a little cold. She wouldn't back down. She saw that the sun had risen. There were still a few faded streaks of pinks on the horizon, but the morning had definitely begun. She was already awake, despite her best efforts, and she would be damned if this cold she felt would slow her down.

She went back to the side of her bed, picking up her necklace as she did every morning. But before she could even bring it to clasp around her neck, the pendant broke. It had been a simple thing. A carving of a swan from her childhood friend, Pinnochio, to commemorate her namesake on her seventeenth birthday.

She stared at the two halves, determined to understand _how_ and _why_ such a thing could have happened. But the edges of the break were smooth, as if sliced by a knife. They had been completely fine only moments ago. She couldn't explain it. The sense of dread deepened, and she wondered what else was going to happen this day. She was not eager to find out.

Attempting not to stress fate, she shook her head and left the broken swan where she'd found it. Instead, she glided over to her vanity and sat down, ignoring the fresh set of chills that prickled the hairs on the back of her neck. For a moment, she focussed on the brush. A gorgeous piece of craftsmanship, passed down from her mother's side for generations, finally landing in her possession on her sixteenth birthday, unlike how her mother had received it, in the will of her own mother.

She tried not to cry when it broke mid-stroke in her blond curls. She glared at both ends, one in each hand, as if the object had done it on purpose.

She sighed, ignoring the feeling of dread, ignoring the cold, and stood to make her way to the wardrobe. Fearing the worst, she ignored her favorite skirts, and picked up her plain green set instead. As she straightened them out, the edge of the skirts caught an exposed nail on her bed. They were thoroughly ripped from the motion.

She stared in disbelief at the nail. When did that come loose?!

She finally set the skirts down on the end of her bed, and went back to the wardrobe. In the corner, almost hidden, were a pair of blood red leather pants that she hadn't realized she owned. She carefully pulled them out, glancing around for any other possible means of ruin.

She set them down gently, as if they could easily be broken, on the long cushioned bench at the end of her bed. Then she looked for what to pair with them. She had a black corset vest (that she also was unaware she owned) that had beautiful, simple, silver embroidery. She gently set it down next to the pants, and quickly found a simple white blouse with long, billowy sleeves.

She looked at the items spread out on the bench. She might look like a pirate this day, but at least she would be properly clothed. And perhaps looking like one may help convince her mother to cancel the dreaded upcoming ball to be held in her honor. It was worth an attempt, anyway.

Once dressed with the help of her ladies maid, she nodded to herself in the mirror. She certainly did _look_ like a fierce swashbuckling pirate, even if she felt like wrapping herself in a million blankets and sitting next to a warm, cozy fire, drinking hot chocolate…

She shivered, and tried to swallow the chills and dread as she made her way down for breakfast. Along the way, she realized how high the sun had gotten, and she nearly ran to the dining room, a feat which physically caused her muscles to ache.

She was too late. Her father had already left on royal business, and she'd missed her chance at a good-bye. Yet another thing this blasted day had cost her.

At least her mother was still there, next to the empty seat her father always occupied.

"Emma…" Snow eyed her daughter from head to toe with an amused smile threatening her lips before nodding at the kitchen assistant standing a few feet away. "Another tactic to cancel the ball, dear?"

Snow never missed a beat, and Emma smiled sheepishly as she sat across from her mother. "Actually, I have had a strange morning." She couldn't help the shiver this time, and her mother's expression turned from amused to concern.

"Why, is everything alright?"

Emma couldn't bring herself to speak. The things that had happened were trivial, really, not some big disaster as it felt to her. She knew this. She also knew her mother would gleen the truth one way or another.

"Talk to me." Snow insisted.

Emma sighed, and proceeded to, calmly, explain her morning, trying desperately not to shiver again in her mother's presence. She failed at that. Somewhere during her story, her mother had gotten up and moved around the table, wrapping her daughter in her arms. It did not help her to feel warmer in the slightest.

"I know how foolish this is." Emma rubbed her temples in frustration.

"It isn't foolish to be upset over broken or ripped things. These things do happen, however, and they can be fixed, and I hope that takes away some of the burden you're feeling. It certainly isn't foolish to worry about a cold you may be catching."

"I don't think it is a cold, though." The kitchen maid returned with a plate for Emma, and she thanked the young woman. "It feels too unnatural. Surreal. Like it's not really _me_ that's cold, I'm just receiving the brunt end of… whatever _it_ is."

Snow stiffened a bit. "Will you at least agree to see Doc? For me." Emma focused on her plate, taking a too-big bite of her sausage. Snow sighed. "_Emma_."

Emma groaned in response, swallowing the bite. "Okay, okay! Fine. If I can't shake the feeling before lunch I will see Doc."

"Willingly." Her mother added with a curt nod.

Emma rolled her eyes, but nodded just the same. Her mother gave her a final squeeze before moving away.


	3. Regina Returns

~Regina Returns~

Emma tried to continue her day as best she could. Normally good with a bow, she went to practice archery as she usually did after breakfast. This day, however, she missed the mark every time and finally quit when she nearly hit her trainer. After that fiasco, she didn't even bother with sword practice, instead opting to spend the rest of her morning curled up with a book.

It was a sordid tale of a princess, desperate for adventure, running away from home, and overcoming every obstacle she encountered. Every obstacle, that is, except the man who stole her heart and, surprise, he was a prince. They lived happily ever after.

She felt angry when her mother found her at lunchtime. She felt absurd for feeling angry. She also felt frozen solid to her chair, having to peel herself out of it while getting colder with every movement, and dread filling her being with every step toward the dining room.

She appreciated the soup her mother had asked for, feeling hopeful. Yet that wasn't enough to warm her soul, and she wondered bitterly if she would always feel this way. She could handle the cold, but not the dread that buried itself in the pit of her stomach.

Emma had a feeling all through lunch that Doc was already there. Tucked away somewhere out of sight or just around the corner. Absently awaiting word from her mother. Who was patiently waiting for Emma to admit what Snow already knew: that Emma felt no better.

But Emma was stubborn, waiting until the last second to finally admit it.

And she had been right about Doc. Her mother nodded to one of the staff, who left for a moment, only to return with the Dwarf softly after.

Snow shrugged at her daughter's glare, mouthing the word '_willingly_'.

Doc tried everything, but came up with nothing. "You're perfectly healthy." He finally said, exasperated.

Emma gave her mother a pointed look.

"Oh, hush." Snow huffed a bit. "It was worth a try."

An idea started forming in Emma's mind, and she tenitavely looked at her mother with a face Snow instantly didn't like. Something between a don't-be-mad and a plea.

"What if we called on Regina…" Snow's eyes widened to a size Emma was sure was unhealthy, and her face turned to one of fear, and anger, but Emma stopped her before she could speak. "Mom, please, stop... Regina didn't go through with the curse. She completely changed when she saw that Seer the day I was born, you know this. She hasn't caused a lick of trouble since! It's been nearly twenty years! And I know you've heard the rumors, same as me. Remember that family, the father and his children? They claimed she helped reunite them."

"Yes, sweetie, I did hear the rumors. I also heard she's the one who separated them in the first place. But not causing trouble is a far cry from helping to fix whatever it is you're going through, even if those rumors are true. And we don't know if there is anything for her to fix."

"If you ask me," Doc spoke up, "I'd suggest you get some fresh air and stay out in the sun for a while."

A new voice spoke up. "I completely agree."

Three heads snapped up towards the voice. Emma stood up, staring. The stranger was about her height, in a simple blue dress, long dark hair flowing down her back with the top half of it tied in a bun. She appeared young, perhaps a few years older than Emma, but Emma felt this woman was older somehow. Much older.

She glanced at her mother, who was still sitting, skin paler than normal, mouth agape, and eyes not blinking. "Regina?" Snow spoke barely above a whisper.

"Hi, Snow." Regina spoke softly to her mother. Then she turned to Emma, before giving a deep curtsy. "Princess Emma. Pleasure to meet you."

"You're Regina." Emma stated, still staring.

"Last I checked."

Snow stood, slowly, both hands on the table. "What are you doing here?" Her voice was now large, unwavering, and in command.

"I was summoned." The sorceress said simply, her elbows at her sides, her forearms out, palms up in a shrug of her own invention. "I would rather be home. Fixing my past mistakes. Like I've been doing the last two decades. I'd very much like to know _why_ I'm here so I can be on my way."

"We didn't summon-" Snow started.

"_You_ may not have," she pointed to each in turn, "but _Emma_ did."

"Emma?" Snow asked, turning her gaze.

Emma looked wildly from her mother to the sorceress, crossing her arms in an attempt to stay warm. "I didn't-"

"I don't have time to explain." Regina sighed. "Emma, if I hadn't shown up here, what would you be doing?"

She thought a moment. "Likely taking Doc's advice… going outside."

"Then go. And if your mother doesn't mind, I will stick around until you get back. We can talk then." Regina's gaze flicked over from Emma to Snow, who still had that shocked look on her face.

"Only if you promise to be good." Emma said with a half smile, earning a glare from her mother, and what could only be an impressed expression that flashed across Regina's face.

"Haven't you heard? I'm always good." Regina smiled, crossing her own arms.


	4. Frozen Hallucination

~Frozen Hallucination~

As soon as Emma was outside the castle doors, she could feel the warmth of the sun. But it was only skin deep. Colors seemed muted. She knew the grass was a vibrant green, the sun a brilliant blue. She'd been out only yesterday. But today, everything appeared dim.

She looked back towards the castle, wondering about Regina's sudden appearance. She wondered if she should go back inside, playing a mental game of tug-of-war with that choice. Finally, she decided the two strong minded women she'd just left would only send her right back out.

She had to try to warm up, feel a shred of normalcy, out there in the blistering heat she wished she could feel.

She made it most of the way to the stables before stopping to stare at the stray dog under a tree not three yards away. The poor boy seemed miserable, and it put a strain on her heart. She would gladly trade positions with him if she could.

Her movements were becoming impossibly stiff as she walked over and gave him a pat, his grey fur littered with sweat. She couldn't help but laugh at the irony as the dog seemed to enjoy her icy fingers on this day during the hottest summer on record.

She took another moment, loving on the pup a little longer before she continued on her way.

Then the shiver went down her spine and she felt like she was about to shoot icicles out of her fingertips. She sighed, giving up on the horses, far too cold to mess with it, and started walking towards the valley they normally rode in.

It was normally breathtaking. If only her teeth would stop chattering long enough for her to notice the rolling hills, the lush forest treeline, the wild flowers growing sporadically, and the impossible hues of the sky, with pearly white clouds dancing above. This day, however, the colors were all turning different shades of grey. It was becoming difficult to separate the sky from the ground.

Breathing became strenuous, and she sat down, right there, not even half way into the clearing. She laid back, tucking her knees up to her chest in an attempt to stay warm. She couldn't feel the soft grass prickling her cheeks, or the stones cutting into her sides. All she felt was the cold, the aching dread, and the sun that wasn't quite warm enough to penetrate her frozen shell.

She stayed like that for a while, eventually day dreaming. Or hallucinating, she wasn't sure which. Either way, as she stared up at the sky, she saw what looked like a portal opening up. It was at least four times larger than the sun, an imperfect circle. It was pitch black, save for the specks of twinkling she assumed could be stars.

She knew she had lost it when she saw the ship flying through it. She mustered enough energy for a small chuckle. As it grew closer, she wondered if this was the ship of Death, coming to take her. At this point, she'd welcome it. She was too cold to care about living.

It was close enough now that she could make out three blurry figures. Her eyesight was getting hazy. But she could make out a chubby man in what she assumed was a red cap, who appeared to be yelling aggressively. A man dressed in unusual clothes, blue pants and a grey short-sleeved shirt, who appeared to be engaged in a sword fight with a man clad all in black.

The man in black kicked the strange man, hard, right in the chest. He then looked directly at Emma, who could have sworn she connected with the most beautiful pair of ocean blue eyes she'd ever seen. Then again, she was also looking at a flying ship. Her word didn't mean much, not at that moment anyway.

The man in black jumped into action, toward the wheel, yanking it and shouting at Red Cap who seemed to follow his orders. Even the strange looking man started running around, as if following orders. Emma wondered, just for a split second, if this could be real.

Her vision started to black out around the edges. The ship was becoming fuzzier as it slowed dramatically. When it hit the ground, Emma congratulated her imagination for making the shockwave she felt, feel very real.

She tried to stay focused on the ship as it appeared to coast toward her. If it were real, now would be the time to panic. But, of course, it wasn't real. Even if it were, she was frozen to this spot, and couldn't seem to keep her eyes open. She couldn't even move a finger, which she tried, and failed, to do.

She suddenly felt warmth surrounding her, and she realized she couldn't easily open her eyes. Was she being carried? It felt like she was being carried. She struggled to open her eyes, and when she finally managed to open one enough to see, those pair of gorgeous blues glanced down at her.

"Stay with me, love!" What accent was that?

Her eyes were open long enough to notice a strong jawline, covered in scruff, a tendon twitching. A black earring. Tousled, dark hair. Was that coal around his eyes?

The eye she had managed to open, closed again. Finally able to take a decent breath, she breathed deeply. The scent of the salty sea, rum, and something else, what though?

He was incredibly warm. She tried pulling him close, but her arm wouldn't obey the command, so she buried herself into him as best she could, taking another blissful breath. Was it floral? … No, decidedly not. Had he stopped moving? Was he even real, or had she _completely_ lost her mind?

The warmth was fading again, and she forced herself to look. He was in the process of setting her on the ground next to where he was kneeling. She could see the worried expression across his handsome features.

Her eyes fluttered closed as she focused all her strength, trying to hold on to him as if he was her lifeline.


	5. Unexpected Help

~Unexpected Help~

Killian tried to set her down, but she clearly didn't want to leave his arms, one of her own snaking around his neck weakly. She tried burying her head in his chest, so he took the hint, rocked back in a sitting position, and held her close.

She was as cold as ice. Her skin pale, a blue sheen coating her features. Her lips were turning an impossible shade of blue, approaching purple.

He wondered what could have possibly happened to make her this way, especially with the blinding heat of the sun. Was this her final moment of life? She was too young and beautiful for that, at least he hoped she wasn't on deaths door.

"Stay with me, love." He murmured again, not even sure if she could hear him. He pulled her closer still, in an embrace that connected as much bodily contact as possible, her icy forehead nestled between his neck and shoulder, trying to keep her warm.

It was a _tad_ amusing, that relief from this sweltering heat would come in the form of a beautiful, frozen woman. He tried not to think about that, steering his mind to more useful topics.

Could he find help? He had no idea where he was, no idea how far from a village or town or friendly neighbor who could, or even would, assist him. He didn't dare move to look around, holding tightly to this young woman.

She took a shaky breath and he risked a peak at her. To his amazement, the blue tint was dwindling, and a rosy pink was starting to poke out from underneath. He smiled at that, moving his head back to his previous position. Somehow, _he_ was helping her.

He was surprised when her other hand landed on his chest. Icy cold fingers winding their way up to his neck, and his breath hitched. He was a gentleman, though her actions were making that difficult to remember, especially when her fingers made their way to the base of his head, grabbing into his hair.

Her head was gone from its previous position, her face but a breath away from his, her eyes closed. Was she pulling him closer?

All thoughts ceased as her lips met his, his brain turning into a pile of mush.

If asked to describe the kiss, he wouldn't be able to completely form into words, with accuracy, how it felt. Something so pure he felt the need to protect it at all costs. His entire body felt it, like fireworks erupting in every fiber of his being. He could smell the rose oils from her skin, felt the heavenly way her tongue licked his lips as the kiss deepened. It was elation. He felt as if he was sharing his soul, and she hers. He sensed in her a need, but it went beyond. Beyond existence.


	6. The Captain

**A/N** Thank you for your patience! Back in January I got depressed and stopped writing. But now that I'm not working (thank you, pandemic) I realized I had the time and energy to pick this back up. And I know a lot of you are probably bored at home and wanting some distraction, and I hope I can do that for you. Thank you so much for the comments, I treasure each and every one. This is probably my favorite chapter, and I hope y'all enjoy it as much as I do. Let me know either way!

~The Captain~

Emma didn't know what she was doing. She only knew she needed warmth, and he provided it. Her hand had a mind of its own as it moved from his chest to the back of his head without her permission. Her fingers were just cold, that's all, she tried telling herself. She didn't believe it. Couldn't even lie to herself.

She certainly hadn't intended on pulling his head closer to hers, or moving her own in a position to face him, but she had done it. Before she realized what she was doing, his lips met hers.

A wave of warmth pulsated through her, starting at her lips and cascading through her body, breaking the ice, thawing her soul, bringing her back to the reality of this devastatingly hot summer day.

The heat was the last thing on her mind. She was overwhelmed with feeling, senses, and it finally clicked what he smelled like. Salt, sea, leather, rum, and rosewood. A delicious combination. She knew in her heart she could never copy how this felt, not with ink, nor paints, not needlepoint. There were no words for fireworks and a shared soul. It was simply _beyond_.

She drank him up, feeling her need to lengthen this perfect memory, scorching it into her brain for all eternity. She licked his lips without thought and his opened for her. Their lips danced incomparably.

At some point she had moved unconsciously, sitting in his lap with a leg to either side. Her mind was completely gone, any logical thought gone, any contemplation of her actions, gone.

His arms tightened around her waist as they continued this act of purity and bliss. She imagined heaven felt like this. Was she dead? If this was death, she didn't mind at all. She could spend eternity in his embrace.

The familiar pang of needing to breath graced her lunges, and they parted in union, eyes connecting, before their foreheads pressed together in a familiarity she could not name.

Her breathing was heavy and ragged as her mind was coming back to her. Confusion started to cloud her thoughts, and she pulled away, realizing what she just did. Her eyes were wide, taking him in. He looked at her with a look of hope, eyes drinking hers in. He seemed as mentally vacant as she felt.

He was real? He was _real_. _That_ was real.

She quickly stood, realizing her position on his lap, and he followed suit. She looked in the direction of the clearing. The glorious colors of the land and sky were back. The ship was real, it was just sitting there, albeit a little lopsided. She looked back at the man, in all black leather, save for the red vest. She suddenly realized his left hand was missing, replaced with a hook. She ignored that little tidbit for the time being.

The heat of the day finally caught up with her, and she realized what a _perfect_ day it was for leather.

"Well." She cleared her throat, realizing how hoarse she sounded. "You certainly know how to make an entrance." Emma waved a hand toward the ship.

"Aye, I've been told." There was a spark in his incredibly blue eyes, and a smirk on his lips. He bowed deeply, his arms out wide in a dramatic flourish before standing up straight, taller than her by a head. "Captain Killian Jones." He introduced himself.

"You're a pirate?" She asked with a raised brow, allowing herself to take his image in, from head to toe.

"I've been called much worse." He took a step toward her, she took a step back. "If I were to judge you on your appearance alone, I might assume you were a pirate too… Would you grant me the pleasure of knowing your name, love?"

She looked down at the red leather pants and black vest, remembering how she thought her appearance looked fiercely pirate-like. She suddenly felt embarrassed, but quickly turned the feeling into an attack.

"I'm not your 'love'." She replied, ignoring his question. "What is your ship doing in my clearing?" She asked a bit too loudly.

"Crashing, apparently." He glanced back at it momentarily, shaking his head before turning towards her. "At least you, milady, seem to be doing much better than when I found you."

She raised her eyebrows. "I don't know if you've noticed, but this is _land_. And I would have been much better off had I not been scared to death of that damn ship _flying_ toward me."

"Aye, true lass." he took another step forward, his smirk widening when she held her ground. "However, I've no idea how we set sail through the stars without my consent, especially with only three men aboard. The rest of my men were left at Port, and I simply wouldn't do such a thing. It's bad form."

She scoffed. "Since when does a ship sail through the stars? And since when have pirates felt concerned about bad form?"

"She's a curious ship, I'll give you that." He paused a moment, eyes sparkling, taking another step forward. "And I'm her curious Captain." If he moved any closer, they would be touching.

"You expect me to believe your ship _flew_ on it's own, _through the stars_ just to arrive on my doorstep, nearly _killing _me." She knew he was telling the truth, though, as absurd as it sounded. She was impossibly good at telling a lie from the truth.

"You can thank me for that 'nearly' bit. I did carry you to safety."

"I wouldn't have needed you to carry me to safety if your ship had stayed in Port."

"Are you sure about that, love?" He smirked at her obvious agitation to the nickname. "You seemed rather in need of a good warming up, which I provided, and will be glad to provide again if the need were ever to arise." He winked.

She scoffed at that, but he was right about helping her. She just wished he hadn't looked so smug about it, with his eyebrows, and smirk and gorgeous blue-

Before she could finish that thought, The Captain's eyes dimmed, his face turned to a blank expression, and he stumbled a bit before falling to the ground. She knelt down to him, terrified, and not entirely sure why she felt that way. Emma could see the end of a small dagger in his side.

When she looked up, she saw a victorious smile on the lips of the strangely dressed man. Until his eyes met hers, and his face fell rapidly.


	7. Explanation

~Explanation~

The strange man started to stammer something, but before she knew what she was doing, she suddenly appeared with the Captain in the dining room, back where Snow and Regina were sitting, discussing something. Doc had long since left.

Snow looked more surprised, standing as soon as they arrived at the head of the table, more so than Regina, who simply glanced over with an eyebrow raised and a huff of agitation.

"Help!" Was all Emma could muster before they sprang into action.

Regina knelt beside the fallen pirate, her fingers forming a triangle as she examined him through the space between her fingers. Then she waved a hand over him, the knife appearing in her hand, and the pirate choking air into his lungs.

"Emma, who is this?" Her mother asked.

"If you don't mind," Regina spoke, "Perhaps we should get him into a guest bedroom, allow him to rest, and then we could have that talk I've stuck around for."

"Is he-"

"He's fine, now. Left unchecked, that wound would have killed him."

It didn't take long to move the Captain when Regina levitated him behind her as they walked. Nor did it take long for the guards to find the man in the Red Cap, also known as Smee, who had been knocked out cold on the deck of the ship. He must have hit his head when the ship landed, but other than a bump, he was healthy. They were having trouble finding the strange man, but Emma wasn't worried. She never wanted to see him again, though why she felt such hostility towards him was beyond her.

Since it was nearly dinner, Emma, Snow, and Regina found their way back to the dining room, fully expecting a quiet conversation.

"Alright Regina," Snow started. "You said something earlier about not having time to explain? Why didn't you have time then? And what do you have to explain?"

Regina glanced at Emma. "Your daughter was experiencing an affliction. I knew that whatever needed to happen in order for it to dissipate did not involve me. I could tell it was progressing, and something needed to happen quickly." She paused. "You remember, I encouraged her to do whatever she would have had I not arrived."

"Why did you arrive?" Emma asked.

"You're welcome, by the way. I see that it's gone now."

"Is it, Emma? The cold is gone? What happened?"

"One thing at a time, mother." When nobody spoke, Emma groaned, shifting her stare at Regina to a look of angst at her mother. "Yes, I'm better. The man I saved… helped me. Your turn." She pointed at Regina.

"My dear, you have magick, if you couldn't tell after... transporting yourself with him here earlier."

"What?" Came from both mother and daughter, nearly in unison.

Regina sighed dramatically, crossing her arms. "Emma is the product of True Love. This gives her special powers." She looked at Snow. "No, hers is not Evil like mine was. Her magick comes from her heart. Mine came from hatred until… well, I found another way to channel it." She looked back to Emma. "Yours is very much… how do I put this?" She paused a moment. "Like blinking. You blink when you _have_ to but you can also _choose_ to blink." She looked between the two women, who were clearly not believing her.

Her gaze landed on Emma. "You nearly froze yourself solid, you _pulled_ me away from my life with, mind you, _all _of my protections still active." She paused, taking an uncertain breath. "Then you opened a doorway between us and wherever that ship came from, and pulled that ship, including everything and everyone on it, into the portal similar to what you did to me. Not bad for a novice who knew nothing of her abilities up until... right this minute."

Emma's jaw could have been picked up from the floor. "No, none of that was me." She was shaking her head adamantly.

"Why would she do any of that?" Snow whispered.

"All I know is that she did it. Magick can be tracked. Everything I mentioned came from Emma, and can be proven if you really want to get into it."

"Why was he able to warm me up, end my cold… spell?"

"How did he do it?"

Emma's cheeks flushed, glancing shyly at her mother. "At first, it was his embrace. He carried me away from the ship, he saved me from being flattened by it. If he hadn't, I'd likely be dead. I realized I could feel his warmth, and something came over me and I…" She glanced again at her mother. "I kissed him."

Snow looked at Regina. "No!…"

Regina was already nodding. "Yes."

Emma looked rapidly between the two. "What?"

They both refused to answer.

"Tell me!"

Regina started again. "There's one other thing I should tell you before I leave." She rubbed the spot between her eyebrows, down to the bridge on her nose. "That curse I didn't cast? I've since discovered that I was meant to. From Fate's standpoint, the stars were aligned, and many things that should have happened, haven't and likely won't happen _naturally_… And I'm worried that the events of this day are just the beginning of fate realigning itself."


	8. What's in name?

~What's in a name?~

Dinner arrived shortly after, and any questions they might have had for Regina would have to wait. Before dinner was over, Snow asked Regina if she would consider staying. Regina agreed, stating she needed to check on her stepson first, let him know she was alright. Snow quickly extended an invitation to him, as well as mention the ball at the end of the week earning a groan from her daughter.

Emma quickly used that as an excuse to leave, deciding to check on the pirate. She arrived as the maid was leaving with his empty dinner tray, and the door was left open for her. He didn't notice a new presence, or if he did, he made no comment on this fact. He was still fully dressed, laying on top of the blankets, a book in his good hand. He was using his hook to change the page.

Emma leaned against the doorframe, crossing her arms. She found herself staring before she could contemplate her actions.

"See something you like, love?" His eyes never left the book. It was the same one Emma had read that afternoon.

"Yes." She admitted. "That's a good book."

He chuckled, setting it down. He sat up straight, swinging his legs over the edge, his hand clasping his Hook in his lap.

"What brings you to my humble guest quarters? Did the castle keep send you? You can tell your masters I'm fine, by the way." She held back a smirk. He had no idea who she was. She decided then and there to keep it that way, as long as possible.

"I just wanted to observe a pirate for a moment. I've never seen a more _dangerous_ creature up close before. I expected it to be more entertaining."

His eyebrows raised as he stood, a smirk threatening his attempt at a serious face. "If entertaining is what you came for," He motioned to the bed. "You've come to the right place, love."

"Still not my name."

"Then enlighten me."

She cocked her head to the side. "No."

"Perhaps you'd be entertained if we took a tour of my ship."

She scoffed, rolling her eyes. "Pass."

He slowly but steadily made his way toward her. "Tell me then, why you're really here."

"I live here. What's your excuse?"

He was halfway to her. "I crashed here, then I was stabbed here, then I was put into this room against my will."

"Is that all? And I thought you were a fierce pirate."

"I am very much a fierce pirate." He was barely more than a breath away at this point. "But being a gentleman always comes first."

She raised her eyebrows, not budging an inch. "Hence the comment about bed entertainment."

He grinned. "It would be rude not to offer a lady a good time when she pays a visit."

That was difficult not to smile at, but she managed by tilting her head to the otherside, and raising an eyebrow.

"Men who bolster tend to be the ones who need it for their own confidence."

He let out half a laugh. "Do you know this as fact? I can absolutely prove to you, that's wrong." He tilted his head to both sides momentarily. "In my case, anyway." He ended the sentence with a boyish grin.

"What's one night of your attempts to entertain me really worth, Pirate? Sully my name for eternity just for a chance of entertainment? And a bad bet, at that. I think I'll find my entertainment elsewhere."

She turned, walking slowly out.

"Well, if I can't have your name, I'll have to make up something."

She paused, turning back around. "That _does_ sound entertaining."

He rubbed behind his ear, fingers moving toward his chin before continuing. "Hmm. Graceful. Fiery. Pirate-clad. Angelina?" She shook her head with an amused smile as a delicious fire filled his eyes. He slowly closed the distance between them. "No? How about Freya?"

"Hardly."

"Ah yes, now I see. Blond, beautiful, bold. Valkyrie."

"Is that all you've got?"

"Minx, then."

She sighed. "This is not as entertaining as I hoped."

"Vixen."

"You're getting worse at this."

"Infuriating woman." Yet he was smiling as she shook her head again. "Alas, I've nothing else to call you."

"You may call me a swan for all I care, seeing as I'll always be gliding just out of your reach."

He smirked. "Not if we repeat what happened earlier, _Swan_."

"That was a one-time thing."

"Don't make promises you can't keep. You would regret it if our lips were never to touch again." He leaned in, nose barely touching hers, waiting for her to choose.

Her breath hitched. Her mind was dangerously teetering toward the blissful mindlessness again. She regrettably pulled herself from that ledge, backing up. "I would regret it if it did happen again."

He grasped at his heart with both hook and hand. "Ah, you wound me." And from his expression, she thought she might have. Until his smirk returned.

"You'll heal." And with that, she turned on her heels and made her way to her own room.


	9. Trouble

~Trouble~

He stared after her until she turned a corner.

Bloody hell, _minx_ had been blatantly accurate. She surprised him. Alas, she was also a clever woman, _vixen_ had also been an accurate name. That damn kiss would be the death of him.

He couldn't deny that he was in trouble when he was still there, staring at the empty hall ten minutes later, that blasted kiss and the smell of rose petals from her skin still lingering in his thoughts. No one had ever occupied his mind as she had. Not even Milah. Certainly not from just one kiss, though he knew it hadn't been _just_ a kiss.

She meant trouble for him, he could feel it.

He smirked at the thought. He had always loved trouble.


	10. Day 2

**A/N:** During a bit of writers block, I found and followed a broken thread back to... an event about two chapters from this one, which I decided was out of place. So I've removed over 21k words from this story, saved in a separate doc. (I'm not _completely_ coocoo.) It might take a minute to rearrange/straighten out the rest, but when I do, I will update again. Thank you for your patience! (Thank you MsStitcher, I'm doing much better now. Thank you for the reviews! They mean so much!)

~Day 2~

The next morning, the guards had nothing new on their search for the strange man. Snow was struggling with the idea to continue the search, perhaps bring in an expert. Always hopeful, wanting to see the best in people, she struggled with these decisions without her husband who balanced out her hopefulness with reality. Knowing him, and what he would suggest, she decided to call on both Red and Graham who were master hunters alone. She knew that together, they would make one hell of a team.

Emma made sure to wake up early that day. She told her mother and Regina, who were together, of her ploy to play peasant with the Captain before breakfast, knowing full well the news would spread throughout the castle long before lunch.

The two women shared a knowing look before agreeing to keep her secret, though they made sure she understood it would be temporary. Naturally, Emma made her way to the kitchen. Where else could she build up a cover? She was determined not to be revealed unless absolutely necessary.

She had dressed appropriately, and took cooking lessons with the staff. She actually enjoyed the tasks given to her. Eventually, she found herself serving the breakfast table.

As soon as she entered the room with a tray, Jones had a hard time staying on topic, and his gaze wandered to her often. Smee was also present, though she gathered that he wanted to leave the castle as soon as he was able. Another young man, one she didn't recognize, was also seated with them. She guessed it was the stepson Regina had mentioned.

The stepson hadn't looked up at her once.

She took the empty plates, brought them back to the kitchen, then she helped with dishes after arguing with the staff that yes, she was a princess and no, they couldn't convince her otherwise.

She ended up eating with the staff before going out for archery. She was late, but her aim was back to normal, constantly hitting the middle circle. Her trainer, currently Merida, allowed her back to the moving targets, where she proved herself more than worthy. Center target each time. Her next lesson would finally be on horseback, at her own request. It was an hour before lunch when she finished, and she went into the kitchen again to help out. Swordplay would have to wait until later. All of her lessons would suffer because of this.

She again served the table. She rather enjoyed the distracted way he tried to keep the conversation running whenever she was around. This time when she collected the empty plates, Jones slipped her a note, surprising her. She read it as soon as she had reached the kitchen, and had set the plates down.

Biting her lip at the note, she felt knots in her stomach. He wanted to see her outside of the castle. At his ship, no less. Whatever for?

All through helping in the clean up, she was distracted. Contemplating her response. She really shouldn't skip sword practice. Or any of her classes, for that matter. She had an enjoyable lunch with the staff, which did distract her from her thoughts for a while. She was grateful for that. However, while cleaning, her jumbled thoughts came back to her in a rush.

Should she meet him, or not? Meeting him might encourage his behavior. However, the same could be said for staying away. Or staying away could encourage him further. But it could completely discourage him as well.

She wasn't sure what she wanted, which was an odd position for her to be in. She's never been uncertain in her life. She mildly wondered if she would have felt this confusion about him, had she not known of his piracy. Was she judging him too harshly, based solely on his title?

She'd have to ponder that at a later date. However, the query lingered in her brain. It was something she never wanted for herself. She nodded to herself, finally deciding to go, but on her own terms.


	11. Sword Play

~Sword Play~

She stared at the stranded vessel, wondering why on Misthaven he wanted to meet here for.

He landed in front of her, having jumped from the deck. He had a sword in his hand, though one was still sheathed in his belt.

Had he found out? Was he going to kidnap her for ransom? She laughed at the thought of him kidnapping her with a grounded ship. He wouldn't get very far.

"Something funny?"

She breathed deeply, calming herself down. "Ah… I wasn't expecting such a _fierce_ display, Pirate."

He didn't falter one bit. "This is for you." He held the second sword out for her, a question in her eyes.

"Have I missed the punchline?"

"I owe you a debt, love. You saved my life. How, I'm not quite sure, but you did. I'm alive because of you."

"So… your life is worth a sword?"

He chuckled. "No, Swan. I'm going to teach you. I never want you to be in a dangerous situation without, least, being able to protect yourself. It's a dangerous world."

She stared at it as if it were a snake about to strike her. She rolled her eyes, looking back up at him. She tried to show as little emotion as possible. "I didn't come here to play around at sword fighting."

"Then you've changed your mind about touring my ship."

Her brow furrowed in confusion, before understanding struck her. "Does that line work for you?" She shook her head, amused. "I've been on many ships. I have no desire to see yours."

"Well, you did imply an interest in entertainment. Let me teach you. It might prove entertaining, and useful in the future."

"You owe me nothing. You saved me first."

"Aye, as any gentleman would. It does not compare." He tilted his head. "You choose to come here, yet you seem more interested in leaving."

She pursed her lips, nodding. "Okay, pirate. You caught me. I figured it didn't matter if I came or not, either would encourage more note passing. So I came to persuade you to stop."

He grinned, the exact opposite expression of what she was expecting. His tongue poked out of the left side of his mouth.

Could this man make _any _expression look incredibly tantalizing? She bet he could. She tried not to think about that.

His expression went back to what she assumed was his normal smirk, an eyebrow raised. "There's still the fact that I have yet to repay you. Now, take it, and let's see what I have to work with."

She raised an eyebrow of her own, crossing her arms. "If I take this, you'll stop with all the… leaving me notes?"

"On my honor." He bowed again. He had a thing for theatrics. Upon standing, he had a feigned looked of anxiety, sporting a wide frown, his teeth showing. "Though I have promised the Queen I would dance with her daughter during some… ball. No more notes, but I will be present at the table until then, unless you happen to change your mind." He winked.

She groaned. "That woman will invite anyone to dance with…" She looked up sharply, quickly changing her words. "The princess."

"That woman?" Both eyebrows were up this time.

When she refused to answer, he wiggled the hilt in her direction, and she sighed. "Infuriating man!" But he was grinning as she took it.

She played dumb for long enough to convince him she knew nothing about swords. She found it rather adorable how he explained things to her. Had she been a novice, he would have made an excellent teacher.

He was treating her as his equal, something she hadn't expected. Their second bout of swordplay, she had decided to give up the charade, and quickly took his own blade.

He laughed. "You really are a bloody minx." He was grinning again. He could absolutely stop that. "Where did you learn?"

"I live with royals in a castle." Not a lie. "I've found the time."

"Then I'll find another way to repay you." He was stepping closer.

"No need."

"Says you. And yet, you let me go on teaching you. One might ponder your motives."

Good question. One she didn't have a good answer to.

"Entertainment." Was the best answer she could come up with before leaping back and attacking. He was quick to parry. They were equally matched, almost dancing, neither could quite get the upper hand, both fully enjoying what felt like a game.

For a few blissful moments, she forgot about her inhibitions, completely enthralled in the dance, the logic to his movements, and the quick contemplation of her own. His main advantage was his hook. She would have to remember that.

They were grinning like children when Regina cleared her throat, obviously having stood there several moments. They ceased their game immediately, standing straight and looking guilty as if caught breaking into the sweets jar.

"You," she rolled her eyes. "_girl_. Your mother has been looking for you. She's waiting in your room. Captain, I see you've made yourself at home…" Regina turned, just enough to give Emma a pointed look, raising her eyebrows with a smug smile tugging at the corners of her lips, before she walked away.

Emma forcefully tossed the sword into the ground so it was sticking straight up, before turning toward the castle.

"Swan, wait." She stopped, only half turning to face him. He was grinning, of course. "I wouldn't mind this again, if you'd care to join me."

She rolled her eyes, not even bothering to give him a response.


	12. Clever Snow

~Clever Snow~

Regina was right. Snow was waiting in Emma's room, sitting at the bench at the end of her bed. She didn't seem nearly as upset as Emma imagined she would be. Emma sat opposite her mother at the vanity, facing her.

"This day has been strange for the mere fact that I haven't seen you as much as I'd like. I've grown quite accustomed to our talks during mealtime, and this ploy for this man has taken that from us." Emma opened her mouth to speak, but her mother held up her hands. "You do know I invited him to the ball?" Emma groaned. "Stop it. He agreed to stay with us just for that, though now I see that was an excuse to talk to the _kitchen maid_, not dance with a princess. He is rather taken with you."

Emma sighed. "That damn ball again, really mother?"

"Emma Swan! _Language_."

"Well, it's true. I feel like you'll use any excuse to throw an available man at me. That's not how it worked for you and dad."

"No, just extreme, incredibly random circumstances… not to mention, the _right_ man." Emma couldn't deny that. "Why are you so determined to keep this part of yourself hidden from him?"

Emma thought for a minute before answering. She thought about lying, but knew her mother would see straight through it. "He would see me differently." She finally spoke. "And I don't know why that bothers me. Yes I do, he's completely maddening."

"Oh, is that all?" Snow asked, a knowing smile.

"Well, he's also clever, _flirty_, caring, grand, a complete scoundrel, yet somehow always a gentleman… not to mention, he's a pirate. I hate myself for it, but I find that I…" she sighed, not wanting to admit it out loud. She squeezed her eyes tightly. "I enjoy his company."

"I fail to see the problem." Snow shrugged gracefully.

"He sent me a note after lunch inviting me to his ship."

Snow was gleefully surprised. "Did you go?"

"Only to tell him to stop."

"Well, was he a gentleman?"

Emma couldn't hold back the smile this time. "He wanted to repay me for saving his life by teaching me how to use a sword."

Snow's mouth opened in surprise, a pleasant smile in her eyes. "Well, what happened?"

Emma proceeded to fill her mother in. The banter, his surprising treatment of her, the fight, Regina showing up, all of it. She could always talk to her mother. She enjoyed their talks.

"Honey, I hate to upset you, but he sounds like he might be an equal match for you. Why are you so against him?"

"Did-did you hear the part where I said _pirate_? Not a prince, not a duke, no land, no titles. No formal training or leading experience."

"The _Captain_ has no leading experience?"

"He isn't cut out for ruling! Nor is he meant to stay in one place. He will _leave_, sooner rather than later. Some grand adventure will call, and he will not fail in answering it."

Snow White, master of matters of the heart, didn't miss a beat. "And you want to make the most of the time he's here, and you think lying will get you what you want? Honey, you can't build a relationship-"

"Between a pirate and a princess?" She interjected sarcastically. Her mother frowned at her and she sighed. "I know what you were going to say, mama, I do. Can't build a relationship on lies… But I don't see the point in building anything… with him. I just want to enjoy the banter, the stupidity of it all, before he sails away." She motioned with her arms and hands in an animated way to get her point across.

"Let me ask you this." There was a mischievous glint in her eyes. "Which would you regret more… Taking the leap, and seeing what happens? Or play it safe and eventually watch him sail away?"

Emma didn't want to think about that. She quickly brought up a different excuse. "Does either really matter? I know he would never stay to court me. I'll just… pick someone from the ball and marry someone pre-approved, and live a perfect royal life."

"Actually… Emma… I hate to be the bearer of bad news. But after lunch, he asked me where he could find your parents. When pressed, he admitted he wanted their blessing in courting you." Emma's mouth gaped open. "I told him I would see what I could do."

That was why he wanted to see her after lunch. He wanted to speak to her about a courtship. She hadn't even given him the opportunity. What would he have said?

"He… Wait, _you _would agree to his courtship?"

Snow chuckled. "I'll remind you that I, former outlaw thank you very much, married a shepherd."

"No one is talking about marriage, mother." Emma buried her face in her hands.

"Um, all of your excuses basically lead to 'won't end in marriage'. Besides, marriage is _after_ the courtship, honey."

"He doesn't even know me!" She looked back up, elbows bent and palms facing up. "We've barely spoken."

"Sometimes it takes less than that." Snow chuckled, softer this time. "You just have to decide if he's who you truly want. And you need to know, I _will _endorse whomever you choose." She stood, pausing. "Well, within reason. I'd definitely pause if you were interested in that one stable boy…" She shook her head. "You know who I'm talking about. Now, if you hurry, you can get to your sword practice before he makes you work for the tardy. And I expect you fully dressed for dinner, at the table, with the rest of us. It's time you show that pirate who you really are. Properly this time." Snow paused again on her way out, looking back with a mischievous smile. "Can you imagine the look on his face when he realizes?"

Emma sat for a few moments, collecting her thoughts. This day of pretending had been entertaining, if nothing else. She had enjoyed her work in the kitchen. The people there were a welcome change, and so was the hard work. She would definitely consider adding kitchen duties to a day she didn't have studies. But day to day, this scheme cut into her carefully cultivated schedule which she had to shuffle around just to fit in physical training. It just wasn't stable. She sighed, realizing her mother was right.

She quickly dressed and hurried to meet the swordmaster, who pushed her slightly harder than normal. He warned her that any future delays in their practice would not be tolerated, and she only mildly listened to that. It was just swords, afterall.

When he had finally let her go, she had just enough time to change for dinner. She suddenly wondered why she had to change for everything, why not have one outfit for one whole day and be done with it? _It's just how things are done_, she could hear her mother say. The way things are done could absolutely change.

She stared at her reflection. Her favorite blue overdress. Her most comfortable chemise. Something she wore frequently. Simple, yet appropriate. She didn't want to over do it. It was only dinner. Should she apply makeup? No, she never wore makeup, unless it was some formal event where it was expected of her. What was going on in her brain?

She shook her head. That didn't stop the butterflies, or her hesitance to walk out of her bedroom doors. _Damnit, Emma._ She steeled her nerves, and headed toward the dining room.


	13. Trouble Revealed

~Trouble, Revealed~

Killian knew he should be listening to the queen of this land, but he couldn't help from glancing toward the door the staff used, wondering about Swan. He wondered if he'd scared her off. Perhaps his request to the Queen had gotten back to her, or the sword play scared her off. He smiled at the memory. She'd made him feel like a child again, not an easy feat having lived over three centuries. He shook the pleasantries from his mind, settling his thoughts. Perhaps true for another woman, but this one didn't seem skittish in the slightest. His hook was proof of that. She barely acknowledged it, but she hadn't ignored it either. A curious woman.

He started to wonder if everything was alright in her family, Regina did say her mother was looking for her. He started to worry about her family, silently wishing them all well. Surely everyone was fine. It was more likely that dinner was different, either she worked elsewhere in the castle, or perhaps she had the night off. He would worry if he didn't see her tomorrow, either.

He turned back into the conversation for a moment. "... then my daughter…" he rightfully didn't give a damn about a princess, nodding absentmindedly. He noticed Regina stifling a laugh out of the corner of his eyes, but he couldn't bring himself to care. He had only agreed to attend the ball to have an excuse to stay, and see Swan. Her interest in him seemed to waver, from that request one minute to playing like children the next. He knew she enjoyed it as much as he had. Her eyes had betrayed her in that.

But if her feelings landed on the former, he knew he'd have to leave. He'd have to find a way to right his ship. Perhaps he could investigate the rumors of his crocodile being in Misthaven. He sighed at the thought. Something in him had changed over the last twenty years, and vengeance simply didn't seem nearly as important as it once did, perhaps fading along with his memories of Milah.

No, if made to leave here, he would likely go pillage and plunder until he either dies, or was satisfied in his wealth to retire. Though he already had plenty of wealth, accumulated over the years, there was nothing wrong with accumulating more. Either way, he was ready to live out his years, normally. Eventually finding a place to settle down. The only thing he knew for sure, was he couldn't give up his ship. He wondered if he could convince a strong minded kitchen maid to join him.

His eyes had made their way back in the direction of the kitchen entry, causing him to curse himself. He really needed to calm his mind. She was rather confident in her request, though she had remained vague. Even though he knew her meaning, he would absolutely work around that. Pirates loved loopholes.

"I can't wait for Charming to arrive home-" The Queen was saying.

Wait. _Prince_ Charming? That would make this Snow White. He realized he _really_ hadn't been paying attention. He took a sideways glance at Regina, wondering what could have possibly changed since he'd been in the Enchanted Forest last. He remembered the Evil Queen and her hatred for the woman sitting next to him. Quite an interesting turn of events must have happened to lead these two into peaceful meals at the same table.

His eyes shifted back to the kitchen entry. _Damnit, Hook!_

The Queen stood, saying something about her daughter, and Killian stood out of habit, creating a domino effect. Smee and the other man stood as well, Roland? He assumed the latter was after the Princess' hand, and last to stand was Regina who was rolling her eyes, sighing deeply at this show. Finally tearing his eyes away from the direction of the kitchen, they landed on golden curls and a beautiful angel in a humble blue dress, walking the length of the table toward him.

Her eyes glanced at him momentarily, a mischievous smirk in them, though her lips were perfectly polite.

A smile threatened his lips before confusion hit him. Why was she over here? Why was she dressed like that? Was she going to join the dinner table? Would the queen allow that?

One of his questions was answered when a staff member pulled out a chair for her. The rest of his questions crumpled completely when the Queen, _Queen Snow White_, spoke.

"Captain, I'm sure you remember my daughter, Emma Swan. Emma, you haven't met Roland yet, have you?"

Time stood still as realization hit him. _She_ was the bloody princess? She played him, and she had done so beautifully. And her mother knew about it, she knew about all of it. The Queen must have convinced Emma to expose herself after his inquiry…

Oh bloody hell, her father was Prince Charming. Not that he didn't have a healthy respect for the former bandit who managed to outsmart The Evil Queen at every turn, but it was always the father a man needed to worry about.

Trouble, indeed.

He finally asked himself, could he, a pirate, truly court her, a princess? Snow White had seemed amused at his request, not angered by it. But could he really make a princess happy? Would he be worthy of her title? Bloody hell, he had not thought this through. Killian Jones, Pirate King? What were the worlds coming to? There was no talking her from her castle, her duties...

He shook his head, reminding himself that it could very well be over before it starts. She did tell him to back off… In so many words. But did she really want that? He was entirely happy to find out. Damn the titles, damn the improbability of any of it. He was never the kind of man to shy away from what he wanted, and what he wanted was a clever, witty _princess _who already planted herself into every damn thought of his. He would stay as long as it took for him to be sure she felt nothing for him.

It was that moment when the truth hit him like a ton of stones. He was falling in love with a royal. Fate was a cruel, twisted thing. But he couldn't help the smirk playing on his lips as they all sat back down, time resuming its normality. Bloody minx had bested him.

He could get used to that.


	14. The Princess

**A/N:** I feel like I update this super slowly, or maybe that's the quarantine talking. To make up for it, I'm posting at least three chapters, maybe more... It depends on how short they are. **MsStitcher**: Writing the male pov isn't easy for me, so your comment made me all cheesy happy. Thank you for your continued support! Same goes for any silent readers. I thank you all!

~The Princess~

Emma wished she could burn his expression into memory. He had stood absentmindedly, his gaze where he expected to see her emerge, his weakness for her getting the better of him.

When he finally shifted his attention to her, he smiled for a sliver of a second. Then she could see the questions flash across his face, then understanding when her mother introduced her as _Emma Swan_. He didn't know it, but she had given him part of her name.

A few more expressions crossed his face as they sat, finally landing on that damn smirk. Too many expressions for her to count, let alone name.

"No mother, we haven't been introduced." she finally spoke, turning to Roland. "Nice to meet you." He was absolutely looking at her this time. She spoke to him long enough to learn he was an artist and musician, though he made a living by working in the tavern at the edge of Sherwood Forest.

The evening went well, she thought. Roland was quiet after that, but Snow and Regina had stories about their war, asking questions of each other to better understand the past.

Jones had stories of his own, and interjected them appropriately. He could hold his own at a royal dinner table, something she found attractive before striking that thought from her mind.

Snow asked about her archery and sword lessons, hoping to hear her daughter was back to normal after that cold spell. She was also fully aware of the reason this question lead the dear Captain to nearly choke on her drink. She certainly didn't ask intentionally in time with his lifting of the goblet, or anything.

Emma knew he was thinking of their afternoon session, eyeing him sideways with her own eyebrow raised before answering her mother, sharing her excitement of her upcoming bow lessons on the back of a horse. She missed her horse dearly.

All too soon, dinner was over. Smee had jumped at the chance to vacate the table, Roland not far behind him. Emma slowly made her way out with Regina, who was trying to convince her to take some basic magick lessons with her. Emma nodded, only half listening as she looked back to the Captain who was talking with her mother. She wondered what that was about.

She knew exactly what that was about.


	15. A Quick Word

~A Quick Word~

"Captain, I don't understand. Do you or do you not care for Emma?" Snow knew the answer already, but she wanted to hear him say it.

He looked back at the figure in blue just as she exited the room, their eyes locking for fragments of a second before she was gone. "I do. Terribly so. I couldn't explain it if I tried."

"Then why make such an offer?"

He sighed, looking back to the Queen. "My affections for her don't matter." He shook his head. "I hope you don't misunderstand me, I fight for what I want. Alas, I am also an honorable man who understands it is bad form for a pirate, such as myself, to woo a princess." He glanced back to the closed door. "Besides, I've yet to gleen her interest in me. I'm not one to flog a dead horse."

She thought for a moment, eyeing him. She knew more than he did at this point. Or Emma, for that matter. She would have to watch her step. She wanted the best for her daughter, but her daughter was just as stubborn as she was. In so many ways, she just wanted to encourage him, but she doubted she really needed to. She finally decided on what to say.

"I can't pretend to have any idea what my daughter wants. And I have yet to speak to my husband about any of this. He should return soon, the day of the ball. But you should know, I have every intention of promoting _whomever_ she choses, even you if that's the case. Whatever happens, this will always remain _her_ choice."

"As it should be." He admitted, relief crossing his face. Snow knew that he only offered to withdraw out of propriety. She could appreciate that. She could tell that he had been hurt before, and wasn't quite ready to hope. But he was clearly ready for the possibility.

Snow smiled. "Go." She reached out and patted his hand. "Have a good night, Captain."


	16. Inconspicuous Note

~Inconspicuous Note~

After getting nowhere in her attempts to coax Emma into magick lessons, Regina bid her farewell before turning to head to, presumably, her guest quarters.

Emma grabbed her elbow, a thought suddenly occurring to her.

Regina turned back, raising her eyebrows. "If you've heard any stories of me, you're a brazen child. Or incredibly stupid."

"You've changed since then." Emma let go. "So let's go with brazen."

Regina eyes her for a moment, wondering how the girl before her could be so completely different and yet so very much the same as the Emma Swan she knew in Storybrooke.

"Out with it." The former Queen finally spoke.

"What do you know about the Pirate?"

"Too much. And most of it is from a timeline that doesn't exist anymore."

Emma's mouth opened, her eyes closed, and she shook her head at a tilt. "What?!"

Regina sighed dramatically. "What I know to be accurate, is he's been known to be… quite violent. Swearing allegiance to whichever side benefits him best. He is a pirate after all. But there's a soft side to that rough exterior." She paused a moment, and it seemed as if she were thinking of a memory. "He's also very good with kids. It depends on who you listen to."

"How do I find accurate information from _this_ timeline?"

"You could try asking Smee."

_Smee._ Right. "Thanks, Regina."

Regina leaned in with a smile that sent shivers through her. "Don't do anything I would do."

Emma nodded, wondering why she'd ever act like Regina, backing up slowly before turning and running right into what felt like a brick wall.

He stumbled back a bit, causing her to stumble with him. He caught her and steadied himself simultaneously, his arms locking around her waist.

She could drown in the depths of those perfect blue eyes. She could feel a blush creeping into her cheeks. The way he was looking at her made her weak in the knees.

"About bloody time."

She escaped his grasp and composed herself before taking a step back. "Purely accidental." _Which would you regret more?_ She cleared her throat.

His face was serious for half a second, before turning back to his signature smirk, slightly biting his bottom lip before speaking. "If you wanted to see me again, there are better ways to go about it."

"There are better things for me to do with my time than intentionally bumping into you."

"No need to be shy, we both know you enjoyed that little tryst."

They stepped around each other, eyes never wavering.

"You overestimate your powers of seduction."

"No, I never overestimate that. I did, however, underestimate you, _Princess_. A mistake I shall not make again, you have my word."

"Why do I get the feeling that you're full of mistakes?"

"Mistakes make us wise."

"And if that's true, you're positively brimming with wisdom?"

"Absolutely." His face was purely sinful, in the best ways.

She had to blink rapidly to refocus herself. "Why did you agree to dance with a princess you hadn't even met?"

He smiled, that boyish charm overflowing. "I'm not in the habit of saying no to Queens."

"Have a lot of Queens say no to you, then?"

He gave her a pointed look. "A devilishly handsome gentleman, such as myself, doesn't kiss and tell." He winked, giving her a groan.

"That's disgusting."

He allowed his eyes to waver away. "Only because you're not a queen… yet." They snapped back to her gaze in that last word.

"Do you ever quit?"

He rubbed behind his ear, giving her a questioning look. "Have I passed you a note?"

She shook her head, sighing, backing away. "Only the one that says it's time for me to walk away and go to bed."

"I could walk you to your room."

"You _could_." She replied sarcastically, nodding slowly, gesturing with her hands in a way that mimicked a scale, before turning to walk away. She half expected him to join her, despite her sarcasm. She felt a stab of disappointment when he didn't. She only managed a peek at him as she was turning the corner.

That damn smirk would be the death of her.


	17. Walk the Line

~Walk the Line~

He knew going after her would be pushing it. He was walking a fine line, and intended to land on her good side, whatever may come. He stared after her as she made her way down the hall, toward the stairs at the end of it.

He got his answer when her step faltered as she was going around the corner. Her eyes flickered up, just barely, but enough that he knew he wasn't wasting his time.

She was _curious_, in the very least. He'd have to talk to Smee. She'd likely try to talk to his shipmate if she were at all the woman he thought she was. He needed Smee to answer her truthfully, whatever she needed to know. Somehow, he simply knew anything less wouldn't go over very well. Besides, the poor mate needed the warning.

She was a fierce one.

**A/N:** Welp, these last 4 chapters have been awfully short. I hope that posting them together makes up for that. Though if I keep up with these shorties, I may have to reestablish my template for posting... maybe merging them, next time.


	18. Day 3

~Day 3~

Emma woke up that day, _excited_. After months of rigorous tests and training, she was finally going to learn Mounted Archery. Something she'd been begging Merida to teach her since her arrival at the castle six months ago. Merida was one in a long line of experts teaching Emma their various skills.

Emma was something of a prodigy, always learning, always adapting. It was just who she was. Given her parents' history, they were all too happy to provide her with anyone who could teach her something new, particularly in any way she could protect herself. It had been a while since she'd learned anything _new_.

And today was the day.

She saw Jones for a moment as she ran past him on her way into the dining room, before grabbing fruit and filling a canteen with water to take with her.

"Emma! Slow down!" Her mother laughed at her jollily.

"Not today, mama."

"Archery?"

"_Mounted_ Archery."

"Good luck! _Have fun_!"

Emma eyed the bright red cap atop the man she needed a word with. His eyes were wide, staring at his thumbs as each circled the other nervously. _Later_, she reminded herself. _Focus_.

She nearly bumped into him again as she was leaving.

"Careful. A man could get used to that, Swan."

She rolled her eyes. "Bite me."

"Only if you're into that sort of thing."

She gaped at him a moment, trying not to think about that. It wasn't a threat. She could feel the blush creeping into her cheeks before moving past him again, shaking her head to clear it. Nothing was going to stand in her way today. Not even a ridiculously handsome pirate.

Especially not a ridiculously handsome pirate.


	19. Mounted Archery

**A/N: **Oh my gosh I have no idea how this got all weird. Hopefully this will fix it!

~Mounted Archery~

Riding a horse while attempting to aim was _not_ as easy as she thought it would be. She loved the challenge of it.

As soon as she sat atop her horse, she realized it had been far too long since she had ridden Gypsy. Luckily, these new lessons gave her the perfect excuse to ride nearly daily. It was also an excellent way to blow off steam, and distract her from certain people. The palomino would no longer be a stable horse.

She started off with a stationary target and Gypsy was off to a slow trot. The movements she had to take in order to aim, the balance, the trick of aiming was completely different than anything she had done previously. She missed more times than she cared to admit. Gypsy never made it out of the trot, but she did hit the target a few times before Merida called it quits.

"Thank you Merida, I think I'll take Gypsy out for a bit. Would you mind letting Zorro know I'll be late?"

"Aye. But don't be too late, tho. He nearly had my head when you missed that last one, as if I have any control over you, but there's no telling 'im that."

Emma started to dismount, fully intending on stretching after her tedious lesson, but her eyes landed on black leather and a pair of ocean blue orbs coming closer. What was he up to? Spying on her lesson? He grinned when their eyes connected.

If he was going to chase her, she wasn't going to make it easy. She righted herself on the horse, and took off.


	20. The Deep Pond

**A/N: **This chapter has been through the wringer. Channeling a (nearly) 18yo girl is trying for this 28yo... I was more mature in my teens than I am _now_. But that's besides the point. Enjoy! (and please comment!)

~The Deep Pond~

She wasn't sure how long she had been riding, but she knew Gypsy needed a break. She needed to relax as well. She was sure she'd gone far enough into the woods to discourage anyone attempting to follow. If he wanted to find her, it was going to take work. Part of her wanted him to find her.

The part she ignored.

She dismounted, and plopped down to the ground, reaching for her toes. She desperately needed this stretch, after all the awkward twisting and turning during her training. She was upset when she hadn't made better progress sooner, but she argued with herself that it could have been worse. Like the day she cursed herself frozen, favorites breaking left and right.

She looked up from her stretch, laughing as Gypsy neighed. The mare was walking off without her rider. Emma finished her ground stretch early, standing to stretch from side to side before following the mare. Gypsy led her to a small pond, about the size of her room, and started drinking. Emma remembered her own water, taking liberal gulps before getting an idea. _What better way to relax?_

She quickly undressed, utterly naked, and jumped in without a care in the world. Her thoughts were far from pirates, spells, balls, or training. The water was cooler than the summer sun, and she thoroughly enjoyed the difference. It wasn't long before Gypsy had her fill, and moved off somewhere past the pond to graze.

"Don't leave without me!" Emma called over, earning a neigh that she readily took as an agreement.

Emma was blissfully unaware of life, duties, troubles, or her surroundings. She must have been there at least fifteen minutes before she heard it. Someone was whistling, a tune forign to her. It was a tune she found pleasing to her ear. Then it occurred to her, whoever it was, they were not far at all, and she was in something of a predicament. Fully naked. In a pond.

_Well, fuck._ If her father heard about this… Her mother would attempt to contain her glee and calm him down as best she could.

Emma wasn't sure what she should do. Could anyone see her beneath the water's reflection? Did it matter? Should she get out, hurriedly getting dressed? Or stay, and hope for the best? She decided on the latter. At least there was a _chance_ they wouldn't see her below the waterline. But if she got out and wasn't quick enough…

She covered her breasts with an arm as soon as he spoke.

"Well, I must admit, I wasn't quite sure I would find you... but I thank my lucky stars that I did."

Hook. So he _did_ come after her. His namesake was holding up her undergarments, a playful smirk on his lips. Her face was in the process of responding with a smile of her own before she caught herself. If she hadn't noticed that one eyebrow dangerously high on his forehead, she might have started flirting. That would simply be dreadful.

"_Why_ did you come after me?"

"When a lass runs off, it's not always to be alone. If that be the case, I wanted to offer my services." _As if that made any sense whatsoever._ She scoffed, though she knew it did. Damn him for being so perceptive! Was she that easy to read? How the hell could he know that she had wanted to see if he'd follow? She certainly wasn't going to let him know that.

"This?" Her free hand came out of the water, circling around, motioning to nothing in particular. "Not one of those times."

"Well, I can't very well leave you now. What if someone were to see the scandalous princess completely nude beneath the waves of an innocent pond? I should be here to discourage onlookers."

"Discourage yourself!"

"Oh, have I tried." That twinkle in his eye would have buckled her knees if she were standing. "A lesser man would have already jumped in, mind you."

"How did you find me?" She said in an exasperated tone, trying to hide the curiosity in her voice.

"Well, it seems, _your_ horse is in heat. So I simply…" he shrugged, motioning his hook and hand back the way he came as if that gesture finished that sentence. It was enough for her to connect the dots. All he had to do was find a stallion. Clever. The male horse did the work for him.

He leaned against a tree, letting her garment fall to the ground where he found it, and crossed his arms. That sinful smile lighting up his face. Did he always have to look so _delicious_? He could convert a nun with that sinful smirk.

"Do you ever give up?"

"Only if you really wanted me to."

"And if I do?"

"You would have told me already."

Damn. On the surface, this was just a simple conversation. But she knew just how deep this really went. All the way back to that addictive first kiss, and his request to court a kitchen maid. She thought about her mother's words again, the ones about regret. Her mind pulled at it like a game of tug-of-war. She didn't realize how long she was taking to respond, before noticing that one eyebrow had joined the other in a normal position. That damn smirk was disappearing as well. She hated that she missed the smirk. She hated that she wanted to feel his kiss again. She hated that he made her curious. Biting? She had to force those thoughts from unfolding.

Instead, she remembered their sword fight. He'd mentioned her changing her mind, completely leaving the door open before she left him there. Sneaky bastard.

"You did that on purpose."

"I do everything with purpose. Though I've no idea of what, specifically, you're referring to." He smiled innocently.

"I'm not changing my mind."

"Ah yes, the notes."

"Stop hiding behind your loopholes."

He pointed to himself. "Pirate."

"I'm beginning to see that."

"We can't help who we are, Princess."

"Perhaps not. But we can certainly choose who we associate with."

"That, we most certainly can."

She stared at him a moment, unsure of her next words. Damn him for always making her feel so _unsure_ all the damn time and for giving her so much to be unsure about. That brought her back to her earlier question. Was she judging him based solely on his title? Like she never wanted anyone to do to her? Thinking back, was there any real reason to distrust him? Nothing had gone missing since his arrival. He'd never told a lie, in her presence anyway. If anything, he should distrust her. She'd allowed him to believe she was a maid, even acting the part. She knew she just wanted to give him a chance. Two days, then the dreaded ball, then she'd reevaluate her options… perhaps give him a chance.

She finally spoke. "Turn around. I'm coming out."

"As you wish." He said with a flourished bow. And he did.

It only took moments to get out and back into her clothes. He had been the perfect gentleman, unreservedly facing away from her. She eyed him the entire time, even though she simply knew he wouldn't peek. She also knew how badly he wanted to. Knowing he could overcome those desires, she felt an admiration she had not expected.

She took an extra moment to compose herself, fingers twisting around other fingers, a nervous tick she had picked up from her mother. There was so much that she wanted to ask, plainly. But giving away her position, of any of the various ones she seemed to jump to, felt risky. Though he did just take a risk, slyly bringing up the courtship. She just wanted to give in, to hell with the ball!

Why did she want to give in? Why did he make her heart flutter? Or make her feel so nervous? Why did he have to bring _that_ up? Why did he want _her_? Even as a nobody, he wanted her. Perhaps the better question would be why did _she_ want _him_? Would she regret it if she didn't let him in?

She squashed that train of thought. He's just entertainment, she reminded herself. At least for now. A distraction from her normal day to day. She would enjoy his company as long as he provided it, and she was just taking advantage of the time he did provide her. Nothing more. It's just a crush. Perhaps a childish infatuation. She was overdue for a meaningless fling.

_It's not meaningl-_

She closed her eyes. She absolutely knew she was bullshitting herself, and on some levels, she knew she was smitten. Not just physically. No, there was a pull in her heart leading her toward him. Besides, any man who could keep up with her was worth more than what she was giving this man. So why was she giving him so little?

She shook her head, the wet strands sticking to her neck and moving against her back. Perhaps she simply needed something to get him out of her mind. Or completely give in and let him overtake her...

She ceased her nervous tick, making her arms stick to her sides, as she cleared her throat.

"I'm decent." She spoke in a dull tone, keeping her emotions bottled. He turned slowly, almost as if he was checking to see if it was safe, before fully appraising her. His eyes were twinkling with mischief, and she tried not to wonder of what he was thinking.

"Beautiful as ever, Swan."

She pushed the comment from her mind as she moved past him to get to her horse. "Gypsy needs to rest." She rubbed the spot between the mare's eyes.

"I suspect so." He nodded. "I can walk her back if you want to take…" He pointed to the stallion he had likely commandeered, hand moving toward his lips. "Erm."

She tried not to smile. "Tornado." He raised an eyebrow, a silent question. "The horse. His name."

"Aye." He grinned sheepishly. "Much better than 'Blacky'."

She couldn't hold back her bemused smile. "You didn't."

"I failed to gleen his name before taking off after you. However, _Tornado_ is all yours if you'd like to gallop off without me." He looked at the horse. "Apologies, mate." He rubbed the stallions neck apologetically before picking up and holding the reins out to her.

She made a quick choice. "I think I'll walk back with Gypsy." She said, picking up the mares reins, and heading back the way he came from, the palomino in tow.

He followed, soon at her side, looking at her closely. He was reading her again. "Since we're headed the same direction, I could use the company."

"If you insist." She said lightly. "Who knows how far we came. It would be awkward to avoid each other for the walk back."

"Actually, we aren't too far." Her gaze shot up at him. "Your steed didn't have a specific destination. She must've ran in circles. We should only be a few meters from the clearing." She tried to hide the disappointment she felt, but he must have seen it on her face. "If you were looking forward to a longer walk, perhaps to stretch your legs, I could be persuaded to join you… if you asked nicely."

"I would rather walk barefoot in a field of thorns."

"You do know how to crush a man's hopes."

"Oh, then it's working."

"Not very well. I am a stubborn man."

"Then I will endeavor to perfect my technique, and I _will_ be rid of you, and your charming trickery." She looked up at him in time to see the moment of surprise before that damn smirk reappeared. She continued on her way, quickly realizing he had stopped, falling behind by mere steps.

Her own footing faltered as she turned to look at him, the serious gleam in his eyes taking her by surprise. She'd never seen him as serious. She turned to fully face him, Gypsy taking the hint and stopping as well. She allowed her face to show the quizzical look she was feeling. What was he up to this time?

He barely spoke above a whisper. "When I win your heart, Swan, and I will win it, it will not be because of any trickery. It will be because you want me."

Her mouth gaped more than a little, her heart stopping, her brain shutting down, her breath halting. Blissful nothing, only the thoughts of him, and them, together. If she had been any closer, she would have kissed him. How she longed for a repeat performance.

Then it all came back in a rush. Her heart began racing frantically, her brain searching for any hint of fabrication, her breath coming shallow and quick. He wasn't lying. He was after her heart. That's when he truly began to terrify her. Not because of the pirate thing, but because of what he did to her. He gave her hope. He could, and would, eventually have her heart if he failed to cease his actions. And that thought was the scariest she ever had to face. She'd never expected to have hope for a happy future, hope in love. She always thought her parents were among the lucky few.

She realized she was waiting for any sign, any at all, of that tell-tale ping she felt when anyone wasn't completely truthful with her. It wasn't coming. She looked him over. His glorious eyes were still quite serious, a small, genuine smile playing on his lips.

If she wasn't torn before, she certainly was now. Staying with the playful banter was safe. It wouldn't go anywhere. He'd leave, eventually. She'd have wonderful memories of his time here, and she'd eventually marry someone, have her own children, live a boring, predictable life. She'd rule the kingdom with a prince at her side. Everything her parents wanted for her. But she knew she would regret it.

Going on this deeper route, she had no idea what that would bring. It was thrilling, to not know. And terrifying. In so many ways, she wanted to jump in just to see. Was it love? Or would he break her heart? There was no certainty in that path, which was exactly what made it so tempting. She didn't know if that path would lead to regret, or not.

_Two days._

"Well?" She finally spoke, choosing to ignore it until after the ball. "Are you coming, or not?"


	21. A New Tutor

**A/N:** This really isn't a cross-fiction, I honestly did research on "the best swordsmen in fiction", and after recently re-watching The Mask of Zorro, I figured what the heck? (If you've never seen it, no worries, it doesn't play into the story.) Zorro- or Antonio Banderas-is about 20 years older than in that movie. Just so you have someone to imagine when he's mentioned... His son is all grown up, too. But that's a different chapter.

~A New Tutor~

They walked toward the castle in a comfortable silence, which he knew was not what she was expecting. He needed to show her his softer side. He, himself, needed to know they _could_ enjoy silence together. It was something he had grown to understand as a major advantage to any couple, particularly if they were to spend their lives together.

He'd offered her his elbow with his free hooked hand, and she silently took it. They took in the beauty of the afternoon, the heat drying off the remaining water from her hair. She absolutely looked rugged, and never more beautiful. He felt that for her, being a princess was more of a pretense to her. It was a title she was born into, not one she wanted.

She didn't know what she was expecting, but a silent walk toward the stables was not it. She did enjoy it, despite herself. She was grateful for the company, just having him walk beside her, their arms linked. She was grateful for the silence. She knew she looked a mess, though she really didn't care. She felt at ease with him.

She mildly wondered what was going through his head, remembered their sword play, not realizing she was smiling at the memory of it. It was a carefree moment. Swords, the logic, the quick contemplation… It dawned on her that she was missing her sword practice. Zorro would be livid.

"Can you take Gypsy back to the stables?" He looked taken aback.

It took him a moment to find his voice, having to clear it before he spoke. "Of course-"

She was off in a sprint, hollering back her thanks. She was pleased that the pirate looked as bewildered as he did.

She was out of breath when she made it, stopping to catch it. Zorro was, indeed, _upset_. Though he was one to hide it well, you could see the flash of anger in his eyes. He wasn't one to outright take his vengeance. He calmly, almost kindly, made you take it out on yourself. In the name of training.

During her little outing, he had created an obstacle course out of ropes. The longer she had been away, the more intricate it became. She was absolutely never going to miss another session with him. He had her up, down, and in between every rope. Muscles she had never known existed were strained. And she thought mounted archery was bad.

Emma was sore _everywhere_. It definitely was not _just swords_ like she'd thought. If Zorro said it was the most important thing in the world, more so than breathing, she would agree at this point. She didn't even care about lunch, which she was also late for, so she skipped it entirely in favor of her tub filled with hot water, oils, and rose petals. She was grateful for the maid who brought her a plate with meat, cheese, and bread. She could have lived in that tub, she never wanted to leave.

Regina, however, had a surprise for her. A tutor, who she had never met before. Regina implied it was someone who could catch her up on what she missed over the last few days, as well as teach her a few tricks involving the study of books.

Emma met Regina and the tutor, Belle, who wasn't much older than Emma, in the library. She had gorgeous brown curls, and a beautiful, genuine, smile. She looked as if she'd been living in the forest, though she held herself like Emma did. This young woman came from entitlement. After introductions, Regina left, and the two got to work.

"I'm really proud of your progress, Emma. Your normal tutors should be thrilled, despite your recent absences. Would you care to move on to mathematics now?"

"Actually, I'd like to hear more about you. How do you know Regina?"

"Oh, she only ruined my life." Belle went on to tell her how she'd been displaced, how Regina ruined what little she was able to salvage with Rumpel before throwing her in a tower, and how hard Regina had tried to make it up to her over the last two decades.

"But, you can't be much older than me."

"Regina. She, ehm. She took the only man I've ever loved, and since she couldn't make exact amends, she vowed to keep me young and healthy until she could match me with someone or I meet someone…" She shrugged. "It's not all that bad, really. We have been living in the woods with a group of outlaws who know what they're doing, and it's beautiful there and I love the peace and quiet..." She trailed off, looking down to the mathematics book.

Emma urged her to continue with a quiet, "But…"

"There's no adventure. Not for me, anyway. Robin and his merry band of outlaws have plenty of it, but it's like it's a different world. One in which I don't belong."

"There isn't any adventure here, either." Emma sighed, thinking of some way to help this woman. "You should come to the ball in two days time. In fact, you should come out with me. It's my birthday, but I definitely don't mind sharing the spotlight. I'd much rather share it than to take it on all by myself."

"Oh, no, I couldn't. I'd hate to ruin your birthday."

"I've been trying to get out of this blasted ball ever since my mother announced it. If I can't do that, having you there to take some of the attention away would be a blessing. I'm actually being selfish here." She smiled encouragingly. "Besides, you might find someone to have an adventure with, and you can finally be rid of Regina and have a happy ending of your own."

"I just might take you up on that. Now, no more stalling, Emma. Mathematics awaits."


	22. Day 5

**A/N: **This one is intentionally short. We're getting close to a reveal, and there's something in this section that I wanna see if y'all pick up on. Happy reading!

~Day 5~

Emma woke with a start. Something felt wrong. Somehow, she was fully dressed, laying on top of her covers. She quickly removed her shoes and stockings, counting all her fingers and toes. An old childish fear, she'd once thought ogres would crawl out from under her bed and toll her dreams by eating her smallest digits.

She looked around the room, noticing that the light coming in through the window was still dim. She swung her legs over the edge, touching the broken necklace on the nightstand, before moving over to the window, just in time to witness the beginning of a beautiful sunrise. She couldn't possibly go back to bed after that view. It made her feel alive. The top of the sky was a dusty blue hue, almost as if it wasn't ready to wake. The blue faded into a faint mustard color, fading into a barely visible pink right above the treeline. She watched as the sun moved until it had just escaped the grasp of the tree tops.

She would meld into a sunrise if she could.

She stared at the changing colors, until all that was left was a bright, morning blue. It was nearing the normal time she would awake. She almost talked herself into going back to bed, but knew if she did, the entire day would go to hell. Instead, she made her way to the vanity to use the brush her mother had loaned to her. She missed her old heirloom. The history, the family story behind it… It was one object she treasured.

She sat down, sitting on something odd, making her jump right back up. It was a book, one she didn't recognize, nor did she remember placing it there. She picked it up, careful to slide a finger between the pages to keep the spot, so she could examine the cover. It was a leatherbound. A historical record of the origins of the Gods. She opened it to the page her finger had saved. Her eyes landed on an intricate drawing, all black lines. Three women working around a spindle. What kind of God - or in this case, Goddess - would work a spindle?

She had barely begun reading when there was a knock on her door.


	23. Return of the King

**A/N:** Hey guys! Sorry for the wait. I've got so many ideas for this story, but too much of anything is never a good thing. So I've been trimming and weeding this story, hoping to cultivate a beautiful story garden. I believe I will be posting more than this one chapter today. You've waited long enough. As always, thank you all for the feedback! I anxiously await more!

~Return of the King~

The knock on the door startled her, she jumped spinning toward the noise, nearly dropping the book. The quick action made her realize how sore she was. She must have sprained something in her back in order for it to feel _that_ sore. She set the book down carefully, placing a spare piece of paper between the pages to ensure the place would not be lost before looking down at herself to ensure she was fully dressed. Why had she gone to bed in her clothes? She was still sore from both training sessions, perhaps she fell asleep while standing. Falling into bed.

She pushed down the pain stabbing down her back as she called out, "I'm decent." The door opened to reveal the slightly greying, sandy haired King. "Papa!" She squealed and ran over to him, giving him a giant hug. "What a surprise!"

He laughed. "What do you mean?"

She squeezed once more before letting him go. "What else? You're a day early! I've missed you. I felt so bad I didn't get to say good-bye. Has mother seen you yet? She's going to be thrilled."

He looked confused. "No, I came here first. I wanted to give you something… But I'm not a day early."

It was Emma's turn to look confused. "You were meant to be gone four days and three nights, and it's only been three days."

He shook his head. "Have you been so busy without me that you forgot a day? I've been gone four days and three nights, as planned, and right on schedule."

She shook her own head. "I must have miscounted. Does that mean today is the ball?"

He laughed. "Now I see, this is just another ploy to get out of it. Really, Emma? It was a clever attempt, I'll give you that, but enough. Your mother has put in the work and I expect you to be on your best behavior tonight." He handed her a package wrapped in plain, brown paper. His eyes twinkled, and a smile graced his lips. "Happy birthday."

Emma was too confused to argue. She sat down at the end of her bed with the package, glancing up slyly. "Is it a pony?", earning a chuckle. Upon opening, she saw a beautiful pair of gold shoes with small rubies sewn into each. "Oh, papa. They're beautiful."

"You can thank your mother. She found an old lady who needed the work, and paid her handsomely for them. I only picked them up. Will they match your dress?"

"I haven't seen it yet, but I imagine so if mother had them made." She gave him another hug. "Papa, you've missed a lot."

"Oh?"

"I'll let mother tell you." He kissed the top of her head before leaving.

Had she miscounted the days? She thought back, counting each individually, going as far as writing it down on paper. She could only remember three days of his being gone. A curious thing. It would sort itself out. She was sure of it.

Her lady-in-waiting arrived to help her get dressed, or redressed, for the day. It was there that Emma was made aware of the massive bruise on her back, from her right shoulder blade all the down to her hip. It covered half her back, and part of her right side. Grotesque shades of purple.

The maid couldn't remember more than three days since the King left. Emma was, at the very least, pleased she wasn't alone in that.


	24. David

**A/N: **Ah, the dreaded male POV. Don't hesitate to tell me if there's something wrong here! I find writing David is the most difficult for me.

~David~

He sat down on his bed, mouth gaping open, jaw nearly hitting the ground. Snow, too, had thought he was a day early. She proceeded to fill him in on the events of the last several days, sans the one day she couldn't remember.

He wasn't sure where to start. His daughter had magick? No, he would save that thought for later.

Anger, he decided, but he wasn't sure who to focus it on. He momentarily settled on Regina, his thoughts swirling wildly. She arrived the day his daughter seemed to be under some sort of spell, yet Snow had felt secure enough in the return of the sorceress to allow her respite in their castle, their _home_. Snow was forgiving, he knew from experience, but she wasn't stupid. As hard a pill to swallow as it was, perhaps he should give the witch a chance to prove herself to him, too. No matter how much he hated the idea. He really, really, _really_ hated that idea.

Then his thoughts traveled to his new lawn ornament, and the crew that had, apparently, came with it. He had yet to meet the two who were staying here in the castle, and he wasn't sure what to think of them yet. He might just kill the pirate for kissing his barely eighteen year old daughter.

No, _she_ kissed _him_, he reminded himself. True Love's Kiss broke the spell, he'd been told. How did anyone _know_, though? There had been no witnesses, except Emma, and the pirate in question. It would suit him just fine if this was all just some ruse the pirate cooked up just to win his daughters heart. Perhaps he spelled her, then 'saved' her...

He shook his head. He knew he was going overboard with that theory. He wouldn't drop it, but he wasn't going to string the man up for it either. He'd have to allow the man a chance, same as Regina. He shouldn't just hate the man for existing, yet he knew he would anyway. No man could prove worthy of his daughter, that much he was sure of.

This left him with one option: To be angry with himself. If he had been here, instead of procuring a peace treaty with Arendelle, which really only needed to be put into writing and signed, perhaps he'd understand more clearly why Snow wasn't as worried about all of _this_ or any of _them_. Then again, if he hadn't been able to return, perhaps no one would know of this missing day until much later. It would be rather awkward to be surprised as guests started to arrive.

He decided he'd simply have to be angry at some nameless, faceless sorcerer instead. _Who_ would do such a thing? _Why_? The missing third man from the ship?

"David…" His thoughts vanished as his head swiveled to look into the eyes of his wife. He closed his gaping mouth, clearing his throat. She was worried.

"Sorry, Snow, it's…"

"It's a lot. I know."

"What do you think of the pirate?"

"_Captain Jones_," She corrected with a small smile. "I think he really does like her."

"Because he asked to court her?"

"Because he was _genuine_. Both when he asked after her parents when he thought she was a maid, and again when he offered to back out of it when he found out she was a princess, though he didn't want to."

"Then why offer?"

"He's proper, David. I know that sounds odd for a pirate. I can't shake the feeling though, that he might just be good for her."

He raised his eyebrows. "Because of their kiss?"

She smirked playfully. "Well, that definitely helps his case."

"Why did she lie about her identity?"

Snow sighed blissfully, looking away. "She didn't want the magick to end."

He did not like the sound of that, whatever _that_ meant. He had a feeling he was not going to like how any of this unfolded.


	25. A Surprise

~A Surprise~

Breakfast was a table full of people, and confusion. Emma hadn't seen it so full in years. Her father, at the head, Snow on his right as usual, followed by Smee, then Hook who Emma thought must have had Smee sit next to the Queen as to distance himself from her father. Emma sat to her father's left, followed by Belle who she'd asked to sit next to her, then Regina, with Roland sitting next to her.

Plates were barely touched in the midst of all the confusion. Emma could see plain as day that her father was trying to wrap his mind around Regina's presence, not to mention the ship and it's crew, two of which were at the table. Everyone else was just as confused as Emma about the seemingly missing day. No one they asked could recall a fourth day, yet here was the proof in the King's timely return.

They were in the middle of David subtly pointing the finger at Regina, when a guard appeared in the room. If he hadn't cleared his throat as loudly as he did, he would have been completely overlooked.

"Apologies for the intrusion, your Highness'." He bowed at the title. "There's a stranger at the door, he seems confused, and is requesting any aide we could offer him."

Snow and David looked at each other.

"Send him in." David nodded to the guard, who quickly disappeared. A few moments later, he and another guard accompanied a young man into the room.

Hook stood up from his seat, surprised etched across his face. "Bae!"


	26. Baelfire

~Baelfire~

The confusion mounted as Bae was sat at the other end of the table, guards not leaving his side.

"Stabbed? What do you mean I stabbed him? Hook and I may not see eye to eye, but we've pushed past that, tell them Hook, we-we've worked well together this past year!"

"Aye, that is true. You don't remember stabbing me?"

He shook his head adamantly, and Snow turned to Emma. "Darling, are you sure this is the man you saw that day? The man who stabbed, and nearly killed, Captain Jones with a dagger?"

Emma knew it was him, but she also knew he was telling the truth. In the very least, he didn't believe, or couldn't remember, that he had stabbed his Captain. She herself had lived an entire day she couldn't recall.

Emma looked into the eyes of the man accused. Ignoring her throbbing back, she stared for a moment. There was something off about him, and she couldn't place it. Finally, she turned to her mother.

"This day is full of surprises, and confusion. I believe this man," she looked from her mother, to her father, then to Captain Hook. "in the way that he may not remember his actions of that day. However, it is the same man I saw. I'm sure of it."

"Captain, please."

Snow spoke up. "Bae-"

"Neal." Snow looked confused, before Hook chimed in, enlightening them on the alias.

"Alright then. Neal. I don't want you to be frightened. We are not the kind of people who ignore the truth. You will not be wrongfully imprisoned. However, we do need to understand. Perhaps you can enlighten us on a few things." He nodded, licking his lips nervously.

Hook spoke. "Perhaps we should start with when you remember seeing me last."

"I don't know how long ago it was. We were in Camelot, looking for Excalibur. We- uhm- we were back on the ship after we had just had a long winded conversation with a tree."

Emma looked at Hook with curiosity.

Hook breathed in deeply, nodding. "That was about two days before we arrived here. It was the day before Bae went looking for a witch who was said to reveal the future. He came back angry with me, picking fights over nothing."

Snow nodded, and asked Neal to share with them what else he remembered.

"Certainly not a week having gone by. One minute, we were on the ship discussing how to get Excalibur from Aurther, the next I woke up here, just outside your castle. I didn't know what to make of it, so I came here for help."

"Could someone have cast a spell on him?" Belle asked.

Regina spoke up. "Does anyone mind if I examine the man?"

David glared at her, about to speak. Without looking at her husband, Snow laid a hand on his forearm to calm him before nodding to the _former _evil sorceress.

With that, Regina stood from her seat and purposely sauntered over to where the accused sat. She made a triangle with her fingers, and Emma was reminded of the day she first saw her do that. To Hook, after Bae-Neal stabbed him. She had been worried about a man she barely knew, livid at another. She shifted in her seat, slightly, but enough to remind her of the bruise. She'd have to ask Regina to take a look. Gods knew she didn't want to ask Doc to appraise her there.

Regina spoke, breaking her from her thoughts. "Something magical happened to him, but I don't recognize the signature. It's white."

"What's white?" Emma asked.

"The magick. Whoever did this has white magick, not unlike you Emma. Only yours is pure with perhaps hints of pastels throughout, where this is simply absent all other colors. A ghostly white."

"Can you tell what happened to him?" Snow asked.

Regina turned her fingers to the people at the table, looking at each in turn. She slowly lowered her arms. "Perhaps I should talk to the King and Queen privately."


	27. A Father's Fury

**A/N: **Thank you for reading, and reviewing!

~A Fathers Fury~

"She's what?" David was beyond angry. He was furious. How could he hold it in after _that_ revelation? He knew exactly who to be mad at, now, if he ever got his hands on the man... He would murder the man who-

"Who was the bastard who did this to her?!"

"I believe, technically, it was _Neal_."

Snow was white as her name suggested, sitting on her bed while David was pacing the length of the large room.

"I'm going to kill him."

"He's not the one responsible."

David stopped, glaring daggers into her eyes. "_What_?!"

"This is difficult to explain. Neal wasn't… awake. For the actions he is being held responsible for. In fact, none of his actions this past week were of his own accord. He was…" She sighed. "A puppet."

Snow spoke, barely above a whisper. "So… so when Emma saw him that day… when he stabbed Hook... "

"It was him," She nodded. "He just wasn't present."

David spun to look at his wife. "How can you trust her?"

"I wish you had been here this past week, David, perhaps then you'd understand. Regina has done nothing but try and help since she arrived."

"This all started when _she _showed up!"

Regina retaliated. "If we go by that logic, this all started when you left, so perhaps this is all _your_ fault."

David's ears were all but steaming, but he knew he was being illogical. It was about his baby girl, of course he was being illogical.

"But in a way, it really is my fault." Regina admitted solemnly.

"See? She admits it!"

"Not like that." Regina corrected, glaring daggers of her own. "It's my fault because I didn't cast the curse, and now fate is playing catch-up."

"Did you know that this would happen?" Snow asked, looking up with wide, wet eyes.

"I knew…" She stopped, calculating. "I only know events that occured in a completely different timeline. One where Emma grew up an orphan, homeless and alone. I didn't, and still don't know how any of those events could manifest in this timeline."

"She was _homeless_?" Snow looked shocked at that.

"Do you still believe her, Snow?"

"I do."

"What I told you, about Emma... it's likely the reason for the lost day."

"Why an entire day? Why _everyone_ in the castle?" David asked.

"I can only assume the witch was seen or caught playing puppet master. But that's not the worst part."

"Then what is?" Snow asked, fresh tears silently making their way down her cheeks.

"This spell came directly from the witch. No potions, no ingredients. It implies this person has immense power. Likely more so than Rumplestiltskin. Even he has his limits from time to time, but whoever _this _is… they have what they need to make anything happen, just brewing inside them."

David sat next to his wife, sighing, putting his arms around her. His anger was being split, though most of it was back to the vague identity of a random, powerful witch that likely he alone could not face. He felt a century older than he really was.

"What are we supposed to tell Emma?"


	28. It's a Girl Thing

~It's a Girl Thing~

In the absence of the eldest three, the people around the table began to talk amongst themselves.

"Remember when you told me you would _arm_ yourself with knowledge?" Belle nodded, allowing Emma to continue. "I found a book in my room this morning. I was wondering if you would look at it sometime today?"

"Of course. That's not even a favor, I love reading. But why?"

"I don't remember ever seeing the thing, let alone reading it. I must have picked it up, well… Yesterday, I suppose. It was open to a chapter… nevermind, I'll just show you."

Belle nodded, then changed the subject. "Are you hoping the ball will be canceled?"

Emma sighed. "If this doesn't do it, nothing will. However, I highly doubt anything can cancel that dreaded thing." Emma looked up to smile at Belle. "Perhaps now I can stop dreading it, since I can count you an ally."

"Speaking of… I have nothing to wear. I don't think I can be much of an ally in forest rags. Do you think you could lend me something of yours?"

"Don't worry about that, I already spoke to my mother, and she is having something made for you."

"You didn't have to-"

"It's already done. Seriously. I asked her this morning, she asked the seamstress, and the seamstress had a gown almost finished with no memory of doing it. Apparently she keeps meticulous notes because she knew it was for you. She kept your measurements, preferences, and a note on your physical looks."

Belle gave her an odd look. "I can't remember going to see her. Must have been the lost day."

For a moment, they giggled like schoolgirls, forgetting the seriousness they were surrounded in. They somehow managed to talk about the available men currently present at the table. Belle thought Roland was the quiet type, seeing as he was preoccupied with some drawing or other. Not one to bring her any adventures. Neither were particularly fond of Smee.

Emma looked across the table at Smee, who was talking to Hook. She mildly wondered what that was about. "I bet you'd find all the adventure you could handle, and then some, in the good Captain over there."

"Oh, no, I couldn't. We've met. I just…" She shook her head adamantly.

Emma looked at her sharply. "Tell me."

"He, ehm. It was so long ago." The girls locked eyes for a moment, before Belle looked down at her hands in her lap. "Well, he tried to trick me for information when Regina had me locked up. When he didn't get what he wanted, he knocked me out. I honestly thought he would kill me."

Emma knew she spoke the truth. She looked over at the Captain, unsure what to think of him now. She knew he had aggressive tendencies, he must have, being a pirate. But to hurt a woman?

"How long ago was that?"

"Must have been… Gods, thirty?" She paused a moment, thinking. "Yes, thirty years ago."

Emma's eyebrows shot up. If that was thirty years ago, how old was the Captain? And who here, other than herself, was actually as old as they looked? Emma just wanted to collapse into her chair, but was painfully aware of the position she was in. If she moved, even slightly, she risked agitating the bruise further.

"Okay, not the pirate. Baelfire? Or rather, Neal?"

Belle chanced a peek behind her to the solemn man. "He looks petrified."

Emma looked at the end of the table. Neal seemed completely unnerved by all this, as if he had just learned he was dying. "Yeah, this is definitely not the right time to talk about boys."

"Is there such a thing?"

"Don't worry Neal." Emma called out, she couldn't help but try to calm him. "I'm sure this will all blow over soon, and you can be on your way." He nodded, absentmindedly. She felt sorry for the man.

"Well, he is rather handsome if you ignore the brooding."

"We're so very bad."

"Simply terrible."

It wasn't long before the table was back to its significant number. The King waited for Regina and Snow to sit before he spoke, remaining upright at the head of the table.

"Regina has cleared this man of his accusations." Emma looked to Neal, relief flooding his face. "However, he could be dangerous even if he isn't the _cause_ of the danger. Neal, if you agree, Regina will work with you to remove any ties linking you to the sorcerer who used you for their evil." Emma was surprised at the look her father gave her when he said that last word. Almost as if she were a victim, too, and it pained him to see her that way.

"I agree!" Neal said in full volume, practically leaping from his seat. "When do we start?"

David motioned for a maid, asking if the kitchen would bring an extra plate.

"Let us eat first, Neal. Then we can hammer away at all this."

Once the last plate arrived, they all, finally, started to eat.


	29. Literary Heaven

~Literary Heaven~

Belle enjoyed being at the castle. It was definitely different from the forest, if nothing else could be said about it. She had slept on a real bed for the first time in years. She had had a real, warm bath. She'd forgotten about that simple pleasure. For the first time in a long time, she didn't wonder what was on her plate. But more importantly, there were people here. Like Emma, who she felt was fast becoming a friend. Emma had surprised her with the invitation to the ball, but she was grateful for that as well. It had been ages since she had acted like a princess, and the opportunity to do so again felt like a gift.

She was thrilled at the size of their library. A large room, with one long table, and several comfortable chairs, surrounded by walls with floor to ceiling books. Regina somehow knew she would appreciate that, even though she never spoke of her love of books. Regina always seemed to know things. Sometimes on an _absurdly_ creepy level.

But right now, she was in literary heaven. But that could wait for another day. It was there that she decided to bring the book Emma had handed her. She always was most comfortable surrounded by pages.

She started her examination on the outside, looking over it. The book was heavy, but not so much so that it was difficult to carry. The kind of heavy that surprises you, thinking it's lighter than it is by size alone. There was an old feel to the leather. It had been well taken care of. The cover had the title, and the symbol she associated with that of the Gods. She opened it, pulling out the spare parchment that Emma had used to mark the spot. She took a moment to marvel at the spare page. Even that felt exotic, having spare paper just lying around. Something so trivial, so small, yet it was something she simply couldn't have in the forest.

She took a moment to examine the drawing on the left. It was line work, in black ink or fine paints. It was difficult to tell, though if pressed, she supposed ink made more sense. It was fine workmanship either way. She wondered if it was real, made from the images of the women the story was about, or if it was simply a fabrication. Either way, she enjoyed the look of it. Three women, one sitting at a spindle, one appeared to be measuring the thread while the other was holding shears up to the thread.

She began to read from the page directly across from the image. Three sisters, known as The Moirai. Clotho, Lachesis, and Atropos.


	30. Stable Thinking

**A/N: **I do try to post often. I tend to write much further than you read- 20-30 chapters ahead, which makes it difficult to remember when I posted last, so I'm glad to know it's not too little! Guys, so much is coming up that I'm proud of having written and I can't wait to see your reactions! Let's just say that this is no longer my story to write. The characters have stolen the plot, and are running with it. Thank you for reading & commenting!

~Stable Thinking~

Emma was brushing Gypsy in the stables, thankful for the mindless task, allowing her to think. She pushed past the pain in her back as she stroked the brush. Again, she felt uncertain. This time, it wasn't just a pirate. She felt uncertain in herself. A lost day. The strange man returning.

An entire day, and all it's memories, gone. Just like that. What had happened? Did she want to know? She absolutely wanted to know. Not only had there, almost certainly, been an encounter with that pirate she wasn't thinking about, but also something the witch didn't want them to know. That alone meant she would hunt down the truth vigorously. What did the villain not want them to know? And why for heaven's sake had she gone to bed fully dressed?

It was nearing midday, and the midday meal would be served soon. Emma wasn't ready for that. Because right after, both she and the castle would be transformed into a princess fit for marriage, and a kingdom designed to nurture romance, just to ensnare a prince in wedlock.

She was grateful that she didn't have any lessons this day, though if at all possible, she would be glad to continue learning from Belle. She still needed to catch up on her history, as well as the ever important "princess lessons". She was horrible with her curtsies. Belle was the perfect tutor, being both a brilliant and avid reader as well as a displaced princess herself.

Her thoughts went to the men in the castle. Neal, a witches puppet. Roland, the shy artist. And Killian Jones, pirate extraordinaire. Three completely different men all under one roof. It made her, only slightly, curious to see the differences in the near thirty men who would be joining their ranks later that evening.

She wondered about Belle, and the book. Perhaps she should have just read it herself. But if anyone can pull secrets from between the lines, it would be Belle. She'd just have to let go, and trust in others to do what they did best. Especially if they were better at it than she.

"There you are!" Emma looked up. Her mother was smiling at her, but there was a sadness behind those eyes she just couldn't ignore. "How are you holding up?"

"That depends on whether or not we're still having a ball."

"Ah, yes we are, but the attempt to get out if it means you're doing just fine, and that alone solidifies that the ball can go on as planned. A girl can have only one coming-of-age ball once in her life, you know."

Understanding struck Emma. "You never had one, did you?"

"No. But I didn't need one. Fate had your father and I tangled up long before I actually met him."

"Are you saying you think fate has no plans for me?"

"I'm saying fate could slap you with your perfect match and you'd still ignore him." She gave her daughter a knowing look. "But you get that from me, and I turned out alright."

"I'm choosing to ignore that. Midday?"

"Yes, sweetie, midday."

Emma put down the brush with a sigh, glad to be facing the wall when her face grimaced, a sign of the pain. She breathed through it, finally turning to Gypsy to place her forehead on the mares neck in silent farewell.

"Alright. Let's get this over with."


	31. Before the Ball

**A/N: **I was struggling with the idea to post all these chapters at the same time or not - but they are all the same event, so here goes.

~Before the Ball~

When Emma arrived in her room with her mother, it was already full of women. Aside from the gaggle of maids present to help the ladies get ready, Regina was sitting in the chair in the corner, her hands placed neatly in her lap. She was already dressed, likely from her own magick. She wore a long, silver gown, her hair neatly wrapped in a bun at the top of her head. It almost looked like a crown.

Belle was standing in front of the mirror along the wall, glowing with excitement. She was holding her new gown up to herself to see it in the mirror. Emma smiled at that. The purple in the gown would be exquisite on her. It looked to be an off the shoulder piece. That would suit her well.

She marveled at her mother. Snow always pulled off things like that. Anything she could do to bring joy to another, Snow would always jump at the chance, and she never did anything halfway. She had the biggest heart of anyone Emma had ever met.

Snow also had a dress made for Emma. It was a simple design, red silk, with gold embroidery. She knew Emma would fight against anything too extravagant, and this was right at the top of Emma's limit. It perfectly matched the rubies in the shoes her father had brought her from his journey.

Before getting dressed, Emma spoke to Regina about her back. It didn't take much for the sorceress to examine, then heal her, but the pain hadn't vanished completely. It was a big enough difference, though, and Emma was glad to take it. Though she did wonder why Regina hadn't asked about it. Perhaps she figured it was just another mystery from a lost day to memory.

It didn't take long for the girls to get ready with a room full of ladies maids, each with her own task. Hair, nails, makeup, helping the ladies into the dresses, and shoes. Despite their efficiency, Regina had offered, multiple times, to use magick to get the job done. However, Snow was adamant that the ladies maids often longed for a moment like this, and it would be _rude_ to take it away from them, earning her an eye roll from both Regina, and Emma.

Though after spending time in the kitchen, Emma knew her mother was right. She'd learned just how hard these ladies work, and the little they had to enjoy. She did not envy them. She also learned her family was considered to be good employment, enviable by many not in their employment. But knowing how important it was to so many people could not stop her from just wanting the night to be over.

The ladies maids were excused when their job was over, and Emma made her way to the window, being sure to compliment Belle on her appearance. She stood there, mildly aware of Regina standing and moving around, of Belle giggling at something Snow whispered to her. She was paying more attention to the carriages. Over sixty carriages, over ninety guests, around thirty of those being available sons of royal standing, or simply sons of The Charming's friends.

She moved her eyes to the horizon where she was amazed at the beautiful array of colors against a deep blue sky. The bottom of the clouds were a bright yellow, where the sun could still touch them. The top of the coulds were a deep purple that, had it not reminded her of the bruise, would be a gorgeous color. The entire sky seemed to pulse a bright pink hue. The beauty of nature could always steal her breath away. She began to lean against the window, in a trance from the beauty, but the remaining pain shot through her as she pressed still-sore skin on cold stone.

Quickly straightening, she glanced down as guests started vacating their carriages. Everyone dressed for the occasion, smiles she could make out even from her room. Ladies in fancy dresses, men in fancy suits. The more she was pushed into the life of a princess, the more she felt she didn't belong there. She was absolutely positive this evening would be somewhere between dreadful and hellish.

"Emma, what's this?" Emma turned, seeing Regina holding up her swan necklace that had broken the day everything had changed.

"An old gift from a friend. It was the first sign of trouble the day you arrived. It broke in my hand

when I went to put it on."

Regina raised an eyebrow. "You realize it's your magick that did this?"

Emma's mouth opened. "Are you serious? Can you fix it?"

"Yes. But I'm not going to. However, I will teach you to fix it."

"Regina!" Snow scolded, but it was too late. Emma was moving toward Regina, mind made up. "Emma, you can't be serious." It only took a few tries. Regina had instructed her on intent, and focus, and Emma eventually got it.

"Not bad, padawan."

Emma looked up, confused. "Padawhat?"

Regina sighed. "Forget it."

Emma started getting pricked by something in her shoes, and she groaned. "Mother, I know you mean well, and these are gorgeous shoes, but I cannot possibly wear these for at least thirty dances-"

"Thirty-five, dear. Our new guests, your father, and you can't forget Pinnochio. I'm sure he'll want a dance as well."

Emma attempted not to grit her teeth. "If Chio wants a dance with me in these shoes, I'll turn him back into wood and carve him into a pair I can actually wear." Regina burst out laughing, so hard that she nearly stopped breathing, which Emma ignored. "Mother, I need better shoes than these."

Regina was wiping the tear from her cheek. "You know how to use magick now. Care to try something more practical than fixing a necklace? Perhaps putting an enchantment on the shoes. Try to make them feel as if walking among the clouds."

"Try?" Snow asked tentatively. "Why, what could go wrong?"

"Turning the shoes into actual clouds, for one."

Emma groaned. "Least tell me how to do this enchantment before I muck up these beautiful, uncomfortable, _things_."

"Emma, if this takes too long, you'll be late to your own ball."

"I doubt Emma has a problem with that." Belle commented with a small smile, shrugging when Snow turned to her. "You know I'm right."

"Relax Snow, there's nothing she can break that I can't fix, and if it takes too long I'll do it for her. But it won't take too long."

Snow grudgingly relented, though that had more to do with her required presence in the ballroom so that guests could be brought in. Regina told Emma how to _feel_ what she wanted to feel from the shoes, and to turn that feeling into an action. Regina had to fix the shoes three times before Emma made progress. She had lost count by the time she got what she wanted out of them.

"This really feels like walking on air. I'll have to do this with all my shoes."

"Can you do that to mine as well?" Belle asked.

"I don't want to be responsible for ruining your new shoes. Regina, would you do it?" Regina complied, and in a snap. The transformation of the shoes was perfect, awarding her a grateful thanks from the brunette.


	32. Available Sons

**A/N: **For some reason, I spent an hour on a guest list. I married off people in the same generation as Snow, gave them babies, and hunted down names until I had a total of 30ish baby boy names fit for the Enchanted Forest. I now feel silly having done that...

~Available Sons~

Then began the show, as Emma called it. Regina went around to be with her son, coming in as if she had arrived in a carriage. "_That's just how things are done."_ it was her mother's voice, the same line she had been told time and again at her protests.

Snow and David had been the first to enter the ballroom, taking their seats at the elevated thrones. They sat, listening and nodding to each as guests were let in with their introductions. When everyone had been introduced, Snow made a barely unintelligible speech about their daughter, and her new friend, causing Belle to smile sheepishly. They only got their information from a maid who was bent over the keyhole, trying to listen.

"These blasted doors are too thick, I can't hear anything!" Emma grumbled from her spot.

"Are they going to announce me, as well? I'm really coming out with you?"

"I believe they might."

And they did. Emma had to admit, seeing the joy on Belle's face was well worth whatever she had to go through tonight. It was nice to finally have a friend close enough to her own age. Emma, naturally, had to be the last to enter the ballroom. Knowing no names, few faces, and even less about dancing as she never allowed lessons unless with her father. Except a few times in her youth when Pinnochio had persuaded her to dance with him.

Her mind drifted off to a Pirate at a ball. What a humorous thing. Being _available_, he was counted among the men she would dance with. She stifled a groan at the thought, trying to remember the happiness on Belle's face, trying to make this night about someone other than herself.

Blue appeared in full size, right in time to scold her. "Thrilled at the prospect of meeting your match I see."

"Apologies, Blue. I don't mean to seem ungrateful."

"What would you rather be doing?" Almost anything. Most likely, riding her horse. Perhaps a long, hot bath. Reading a story. Reading a story _in_ a long, hot bath. She kicked herself for not asking Belle about the book. "Too many options?" Blue gave her a knowing smile and pulled her into a hug.

"I suppose there are worse things than meeting 30 mostly handsome men my age."

"You haven't seen them, I take it. I believe I saw one, maybe two, questionable men, the rest just might haunt my dreams... in the best ways."

"Blue!" Emma laughed.

"Princess, it's almost time." Spoke the maid at the doors.

"I have a gift for you, Emma." Blue smiled coyly. "One I cannot wrap."

"I'm intrigued."

"I can make it so you will know your true love."

"How?"

"They're starting to announce you! Ten seconds!"

Blue whispered in her ear, waved her wand, and with a wink she disappeared.

"_Princess Emma Swan_!"

The doors opened onto the balcony, and Emma emerged to a crowd below, clapping in her honor. She was watching the red butterfly carefully, realizing it matched her dress perfectly. She minded her steps, smiling sweetly to the crowd. She was only mildly curious to see who it would land on. Maybe a little more than mildly.

The butterfly did not go straight to her true love as she had hoped, it fluttered a few yards in front of her as if it were waiting for her to catch up.

Emma waved properly for an appropriate amount of time before gripping the banister, making her way slowly as she was instructed. It all felt like an elaborate ploy. She felt like she was deceiving these men, their parents.

The first two available men she saw were the twins Godric and Giles, sons of Ella and Thomas. They were both fair haired, though one had a darker complexion. The butterfly did not land on either. The next available man she recognized was Cassian, second child of Philip and Aurora. Still, the butterfly did not stop.

Next was Roland, eyes much larger than they ought to be. Though she found him handsome, and interesting in his own way, she was glad the butterfly did not stop. Neither did it stop for the men she found herself most attracted to Scott, son of Merida and Thor, and Jorie, son of Lancelot and Mulan.

The last man she hoped for was Joaquin, son of Zorro & Elena, though knowing his father gave her pause. But he was the kind of man that had trouble in his eyes, and she knew adventure was in his future. She was only slightly disappointed when the butterfly didn't land on him either.

Her first dance was, of course, with her father, the King. It was neither lively, nor slow. A beautiful classic dance. A dance to symbolise the exchange from father to potential spouse.

"Smile genuinely and be kind to them." The King said. "Because whoever you choose tonight will court you, and then they will have to answer to me."

She laughed before that thought hit her. "Surely they don't _all_ want to court me?"

"Why else would they be here?"

"Because they were invited?"

He chuckled. "No, Emma. It's an unspoken rule. Any available son who is invited is given a choice to come for the possibility of a courtship. But if they arrive and decide not to dance with you, it's like saying 'no thank you' or 'I'm just here for the wine'. But if they do dance with you, they're asking for permission from _you _to court them, since they already have mine through the invitation. Or Snow's permission," he sighed. "Through a verbal invitation."

"What if he's already married?"

"Like Pinnochio? He's here to show you support."

"Why has no one told me this?"

"We tried, you wouldn't listen."

She nodded, lips pressed together. "Yeah, that sounds like me."

All too soon, the dance with her father was over. As he moved to dance with Snow, he was immediately replaced by one available son after another. They started to dance with her by either waiting patiently for their turn, or cutting in to the turn before them. Either way, they had perfect timing, switching seamlessly as if they knew in what order to go in. She was reminded of a windup music box, where every man she danced with was just another gear playing its role.

She caught a glimpse of a man in the shadows, and she knew instantly that it was the Pirate Jones. Several other couples were joining together on the dance floor, and she was happy to see Belle had already been asked to the floor.

She saw her mother's disapproving look at her distraction, and she snapped her focus back to the man she was with, Joquin, her third dance not including her father. Her first two being Scott, and Cassian. Her next potential dance was Ben, who had an odd shaped nose. She didn't catch who his parents were. She was thinking of Blue's comment of one or two men not on par with the others' appearance. But appearance isn't everything. His personality just felt darker than she liked, and there wasn't enough of it for her to remember.

Names and faces started to blur with the twirls of the dances. Godric, Giles, Roland, Ajay, Hansel, Aidan, Blake, Marcus, Hugh, Flynt, the bastard son of a man named Blackbeard. Flynt was a welcome change from the perfect gentleman she had previously danced with. He turned out to be shy, only coming because his father had stolen an invite and forced him to. There was something very endearing about him. Perhaps because he was a pirate, so unlike the one she already knew.

Her next dance was with Chio. She was grateful for the break in suiters. She relaxed her dance, feeling more comfortable with her old friend.

"Thank you!"

"For what?"

"Saving me, even just for a moment, from another suitor."

"They can't all be that bad."

"They aren't, but this whole thing is ridiculous. Chio, how am I supposed to choose a partner for _life_ from a few seconds of one dance out of dozens of men?"

"Perhaps by following Blue's butterfly?"

"How did you-"

"I pay attention to detail, young Swan." He gave her hand a squeeze. "But really, a dance can tell you a lot about a person. When it's the right person, things just click. They sizzle. You can feel it."

"Like bacon?"

He stifled a laugh. "You did not just compare your suitors to fried pig."

"I absolutely did."

She was sad when the dance with her friend was cut short by a cut in. Illogically mad at him, she was thankful the butterfly did not stop for Jed. Then her mind went blank as more names and faces were introduced. Jarvis, Ving, Conrad, Altair, Gideon, Warin, Adrian, Cary, Delbin, Gervase, Jesse, leaving only a handful of men patiently waiting their turn. Someone in that group had stepped on her toe, and someone else had managed to pinch her arm somehow. After Jesse, someone cut in, surprising her with the electricity in his touch.

"Captain!"

"Miss me?"

She rolled her eyes. "I saw you this morning."

"Aye, it's been too long."

"Whatever helps you sleep at night."

"Knowing you missed me this day does indeed help, thank you." He grinned and she wished it wasn't so damn charming.

Her eyes caught movement, and she realized the butterfly had stopped. Hook caught her gaze, glancing down to see where her eyes were leading

"Peculiar butterfly…" He muttered. "This thing has been circling you all night, love. I think you may have a stalker."

"You've been watching me all night? Who's the stalker?"

His eyebrow rose in a question as his face remained serious. "I've only watched enough to notice that you dance your best with people you're comfortable with." He leaned in to whisper in her ear. "Like me."

"Cocky bastard." She muttered under her breath.

"Oh, I do love it when you're _less _than proper."

She tried looking anywhere else, glancing around at the crowd. She spotted Chio, who was arm in arm with his husband. And he was grinning at her. He raised a glass in her direction with a slight nod.

When she finally made eye contact with the pirate again, her breath hitched. She could see him, really see him, through the doors to his soul. What she found wasn't scary, it was warm, inviting, comfortable.

She felt like they were moving through time as it stood still. The electricity from his touch spread throughout her body. They were moving as they had been with the swords. Effortless. Sensing each other's movements.

"You simply must tell me where you've learned your vocabulary."

"Well, there is this one pirate who just won't leave me alone."

"You dare insinuate that I would mutter such words in your presence!" He mocked anger. "I am always-"

"A _devilishly handsome _gentleman?"

He grinned. "Oh, why thank you. I do enjoy having heard you admit to it."

She looked around the room again. "But with so many handsome men here, how am I to choose just one?"

He shrugged. "You could always have a harem."

She scoffed. "Seriously? What am I going to do with a harem?"

His grin widened. "Well, if you need pointers-"

"Let me know if you plan on being helpful anytime soon."

"Aren't I always?"

She groaned. "I can't believe this is how my parents expect me to choose a husband."

"Well, they are allowing you to choose. Most royal children don't get that privilege."

"Most royal children aren't the product of true love."

"True-" He looked over at her parents, grinning at each other, still dancing together. "Well, that's interesting."

"I wonder which lucky man will take my next dance."

"That would be… Jeremy, I believe. A firstborn prince. Son of Ariel and Eric."

She cocked her head at him. "What did you do? Memorize the guest list? And how could you know-"

He twirled her, cutting her off, and bringing her back to him a little too hard, making her stand much closer to him than before. His hand landed on the small of her back. "I merely listened when they were introduced."

"And you remember everyone?"

"Mostly. You can't be surprised."

She glanced at the butterfly, now on his chest, then finally made eye contact. "Surprised? No. I don't believe I am."

She saw the curiosity in his eyes, his mouth opening as if he were about to say something. If he had been, it was cut short when the song ended, ending his turn with it. That didn't stop him from dipping her, and she was grateful he hadn't let her fall, though it occurred to her that she never doubted he would catch her.

Killian effortlessly brought her back up before bowing, her hand in his. Never once losing eye contact, he kissed her fingers gingerly. He stood, backing away slowly as the next man arrived. He had been right, it was Jeremy. She glanced back over in time to see him disappear into the shadows he had claimed.

She was back in the throng of names and faces, she knew she couldn't possibly remember all of them, or even some accurately. Quentin was next, then Reynold, Luke, Neal, Savas who was the other non-looker, and finally, Dylan.

Dylan began his dance differently than any other. "I don't suppose you know how to dance?" He asked, causing her to smile.

"No, decidedly not."

"Darn. I was hoping you could lead. Wanna wing it?" He held up his hands, and she took them, happily. Despite his introduction, he actually wasn't bad at this.


	33. The Butterfly Effect

~The Butterfly Effect~

Killian looked down at his best vest, which happened to be a matching red to Emma's own dress. He would have worn this one even without Snow's whispered advice to wear red. Right above his heart, the butterfly had sewn itself into it. It was no longer alive, or had it ever been? Was this magick? What type of magick? An omen?

He watched as she went from Jeremy, Quentin, Reynold, then Luke when he finally spotted Regina wandering the crowd, only a yard or so away now.

Emma was ending one dance, beginning another with Neal when he reached the sorceress.

She barely glanced at the butterfly. "It wasn't me." She replied to the question in his eyes. "But it isn't bad."

"You know, though. And you won't tell me."

She grinned, staring off into the distance. "Where's the fun in that?"

Emma's last dance was with a man called Dylan, but by now Killian wasn't paying attention to them. He was looking around the room, curious as to whose magick was responsible for this curious little trick.

His eyes landed on the Blue fairy. Her smile was mischievous, and telling. _She_ had done it. So it _was_ good. But why? What was she up to?


	34. Subtle Hero

~Subtle Hero~

Emma found out that Dylan was the son of Kristoff & Anna, whom she had never met. She did remember her father telling her stories of the two, having been friends with them at some point in his past. Dylan was goofy, but he had a knack for making her laugh. He was a bit sheepish in general, but she found he quickly made her feel at ease with not only him, but herself. A quality she could get used to.

She was enjoying her final dance, until she saw Red and Graham talking with her parents. She wondered what they could have found, if anything, having been sent after a man who mysteriously showed up near the castle. She tried to gauge her parents' reaction to them, what they were saying, but her father was unreadable and Snow kept a warm smile plastered on her face. Whatever news they had learned, Emma would not find out simply by being nosy.

She didn't have time to ponder the notion, as the dance ended. She curtsied in what she hoped was the appropriate one, grateful her task was finally over. Though what came next wasn't much better. The most appalling thing: A Royal Dinner. One where she was required to eat as little as possible, in the most attractive manner she could muster. And she was _famished_. She just wanted to grab a turkey leg and gnaw on it.

As she made her way to her spot at the monstrously large table, between her father and Belle, her thoughts turned to the arrival of Red and Graham, desperately curious if they were missing a day as well. Though they hadn't been present for most of the dancing, they did stay for dinner.

After the meal, she was absolutely still hungry, yet she was expected to mingle with the crowd back in the ballroom. Particularly the batch of young men who were, apparently, hopeful to woo her. She was expected to dance with anyone who asked her to. She was also expected to choose someone to court her, though she was allowed time to name her choices in men. Once named, any could come to court her, and any could duel whoever else she had picked. Emma didn't much care for the idea of having multiple suitors, but it did save time in the long run. Especially if they dueled.

Perhaps she should pick several at random and see what happened.

She got along best with Dylan. Chatting with him felt easy, and he _was _boyishly cute. A prince, though not directly in line for a crown of his own, made him an ideal match. She just couldn't feel... it. Whatever _it_ was, the bacon Chio had referred to. She wondered if that was any fault of the Captain's recent presence in her life. She knew if that damn pirate weren't here, she'd choose Dylan. No one else had come close to making her smile, or laugh genuinely.

Savas was perhaps the eldest bachelor there. Son of Abigail & Frederick, she of course knew both kingdoms would benefit from their union. He came off as overly assertive, though. Something Emma was not fond of.

She managed to spend, least, five minutes with each suitor away from the dancing. She chose to linger a bit longer with Dylan, in an attempt to cut Savas' time shorter. With Savas, each attempt to gracefully step away came some segue into another topic she found little to no interest in. She had more to accomplish than speak to this one man. She was on the verge of insulting him, when a hand gently touched her elbow.

"Apologies, Princess." Hook was at her side, already guiding her away from the man. "Your mother has requested a moment with you."

Emma excused herself before allowing herself to be guided. "What does she want?"

"Hmm? Oh yes. Had to come up with something believable."

He had made it up. Part of her could just kiss him then and there, the other part was not happy with his interjection, having no right to just barge in on her personal conversations like that.

"You had no right!" She spat under her breath, managing to keep a proper smile on her face.

"Had it been someone you enjoyed the company of, like Dylan, I would not have intervened."

Despite the lie, he did bring her to Snow who had a question on her face.

"Don't ask." Emma grumbled. She was surprised when the pirate discreetly hooked over a pouch. How he managed that left her both impressed and curious. Upon opening it, she found several coin sized yellow disks. She eyed him sideways, raising a brow. "Pirate treasure?"

"Don't give me that look, Swan." He wasn't even looking at her, instead looking off into the crowd. "It's food. You eat it. I know you're hungry after that display at dinner."

Emma didn't have to look at her mother to feel the wide, beaming smile and flushed cheeks of pride at the exchange.

"What kind of food?"

"It's dried fruit, from another realm. It'll help with the hunger pangs until this event is over." She examined the disk shaped fruit, not sure if she should try it. She _was_ impossibly hungry, though. "Just try something new, love. It's called trust. You'll like it."

He gave her elbow a final squeeze before walking off. She tried it, discreetly. It was sweet, and chewy. She actually didn't mind this dried fruit, though whoever thought up such an idea? To dry fruit?

"Well, _that_ was thoughtful. And he saved you from Savas." Emma looked at her mother in surprise. "Don't start with me, Emma. Everyone, aside from Savas, can see you're not… interested in the man. You do have a hidden pocket in that dress, by the way. I know how much you love those."

"Why is Savas… the way he is?"

Snow sighed. "I wish I could say. His parents may be true love, but they're also a bit odd. Something must have happened after King Midas' passing." She shook her head sadly. "I just hope they're alright."

"Why wouldn't they be? They're the wealthiest kingdom in the realm."

"They _were_. But that doesn't stop the Rumor Mill."

"What rumors?"

"You had better get back to mingling, my little swan." Snow moved to kiss her forehead. "At least pretend to get to know these men. They've all come a long way to see you."


	35. Art of Eavesdropping

~Art of Eavesdropping~

The night was far from over. Killian kept his distance as she mingled, danced when she was asked to, smiled, likely flirted. He managed to mingle a bit himself. He talked to her other suitors, their parents, staff, and various guests. Many simply walked up to him, telling him their life stories. He was very approachable when he wanted to be. It was one way he gathered information. Knowledge is power afterall.

He made his way around the room, keeping to the shadows as she danced with Dylan. Again. If he were to lose her to another gent, he hoped for this one. The man could easily make her smile all the way to her eyes.

The pang of jealousy finally flared up. _Not quite so mature after all_. He had hoped he'd outgrown petty feelings like that in his old age.

He noticed a man and a woman huddled together, whispering. He had noticed them enter near the end of Emma's first thirty or so dances, but they hadn't been officially announced. He stealthily inched forward, too nosy for his own good. Eavesdropping was an art he had entirely too much practice with.

"...wonder how she'll take it." The brunette was saying.

"No one can just disappear like that." He had an accent.

"But he did. And showed up right back here."

"He must have used magick. With your nose, and my skill, it's near impossible to lose a trail like that. He was completely unskilled in covering his tracks."

They must have been talking about Bae. They had been sent out to find him, then lost the trail at some point. Wait. Nose? Curious, however unimportant. Something to figure out at a later date.

"It'll be alright, Red." He picked up her hand in a comforting gesture.

"How do we begin to explain a whole day, lost to memory?"

So they _had _been affected. Curious. He gathered that only those in or around the castle had been affected. Or anyone near Bae. Could that mean Bae, and his hunters, had both been on or near the castle grounds? That would make sense if they were following him. Bae had woken up near the gates. But where had the hunters ended up at?

He stayed a moment longer, but their conversation drifted to other things. He mildly wondered about their shared love of wolves. He also wondered when they would finally admit to themselves that they were attracted to one another. One could pick up much while eavesdropping.

Emma's dance had finished, and she was hastily making her way toward the edge of the dancefloor. He wondered if she were trying to avoid another dance. Prime opportunity for him to catch a moment.

She looked surprised as he stepped next to her, matching pace, as if he had been there far longer than he actually had been.

"Dance with me."

She stopped, biting her lip. He wasn't sure if it was in agitation, or holding back her joy. Likely the former.

"Only because it is required of me to do so, when asked."

They moved back to the dancefloor, joining the throngs of couples already there. This was a much slower dance.

"What do you want?"

"You're suggesting that I couldn't have simply wanted another dance with you."

"I'm positive you wanted another dance. But you only asked because you have something to say."

He grinned, she _was _clever. "How about we just enjoy this for a moment. At least if you're dancing with me, you're avoiding dancing with another man that you have to pretend with."

She rolled her eyes, giving in. He twirled her in time with the music. He felt her beginning to relax. She even closed her eyes for a moment, trusting him to lead. They stayed like that for what felt like seconds wrapped in eternity.

"The song's almost over, Hook." She said, opening her eyes to look over at the array of musicians.

He sighed. "I found out something. I felt like you might want to know. The hunters sent to find Bae had lost his trail at some point, they think due to magick. But they too are missing a day."

She pulled away from him a bit. "What? How-"

"Nevermind that. I think all three of them wound up back here on that missing day."

She nodded. "Because no one else, that we know of, is missing a day unless they were here." She sighed. "It makes sense, I'll give you that much. But where does the book fit into it?"

"What book?"

She shook her head. "Something about the Gods. Three sisters, I think. I found it in my room the morning after the missing day."

"Sister deities. That sounds familiar… And you've yet to read it?"

"I asked Belle to look into it."

They looked around the room, spotting Belle talking with one of the nameless suitors.

Emma shook her head again, turning her attention back to him. "Look, Hook, we can't do this tonight. This ball means too much to too many people. Just let it go for now." She searched his eyes. He wasn't entirely sold. The longer they waited to act on any information, the further this witch and her hidden agenda got from them. "Please." She muttered, barely above a whisper.

He shut his eyes, knowing he couldn't say no now. "Yes, I'll drop it. For _now_."

"Thank you. That's all I ask."

He bowed, appropriately for the end of their dance. She replied with a curtsy. The first one she had done accurately tonight. He smiled at that.

The musicians were beginning a new ballad, and she continued on her way, and he headed back to the comfort of the shadows.


	36. Reflections

~Reflections~

Snow had worry in her eyes. "You look troubled. What did Hook want?"

Emma glanced up, unaware her feet had brought her to her mother.

"Hmm? Oh. He found out about the task given to Red and Graham. He thinks they followed Neal back here since they're missing a day too."

Snow's eyebrows shot up, eyes blinking rapidly. "I see nothing gets by that man. I didn't know they were missing a day, though, I wonder how he found out?"

Emma's head was throbbing at this point. She nibbled on another disk in an attempt to ebb her hunger. It did help, if only a little. "I don't know. I'm not sure I care. How did you do it, mama?"

"Do what?"

"All those years of running and hiding and beating Regina at her own game?"

Snow nodded. "Oh, that. It really wasn't about Regina for me. It was… Survival. It's a lot different than what you've grown up with. You just get to this place of needing to do whatever you need to in order to... live, for even one more day. You find allies you can trust. That's how I found Red, and the dwarves. Gather information when you can. Help others when you can. I think that's the biggest thing that helped me, in the end. I never had the heart to stop helping people, and in turn, they always helped me when I needed it."

"All I'm missing is one lousy day, and I don't even know if this sorcerer is after anyone or anything or simply creating chaos, and it already hurts to think about it."

Snow took her daughter into her arms. "One day at a time, honey. That's all you can do."

A chill raced down Emma's back, and she knew someone was behind her. He coughed politely. Her mother let her go, smiling as best she could, though it faltered slightly. Emma knew from her mother's face just who was behind her. Emma put on her very best fake smile before turning.

"Princess," Savas gave a short bow. "Allow me one final dance before myself and my family depart." He held out his elbow, which Emma regrettably took. This was not one of the handful of men she would have gladly danced a second time with.


	37. Day 6

~Day 6~

It was well past midnight when Dylan, the last bachelor to leave, finally left. It was officially over.

Dylan had given Emma a kiss to her knuckles, bidding her a good night. He could definitely be a candidate in her eyes. There was chemistry. He knew what it would take to rule. He'd do much for her kingdom. She just couldn't feel what Chio was talking about. There was no click, no sizzle. But a fine companion he would make, and she could do worse.

She had noticed when Hook had left. The number of guests had dwindled to about a dozen, and she was in the middle of listening to Dylan telling a particularly funny story. She'd caught sight of the pirate as he, and all his leather, vanished out one of the side doors. She had immediately felt a pang of regret for not spending more time with him, gotten a third dance at least. But she had to worry about the remaining guests, two of which were potential suitors.

At that point, the King and Queen had long since retired, and Emma felt alone until she saw Belle dancing with a tall, dark, and handsome man who she'd completely forgotten the name of. He was one of the first men the butterfly had ruled out. At least _someone _was having a good time.

With Dylan gone, the event was officially over, and Belle threw her arms around her new friend, much too excited to go to bed despite the time.

"What do we do now?" She asked exuberantly, letting go of the hug.

"Food. Now." Was all Emma could muster, beat after the long night. She chewed on the last piece of dried fruit, looked coyly at her friend. Shaking her head, she said, "So. Hyper."

"I may have met someone. But that can wait. I'm starving!"

Being so close to the bubbly brunette rubbed off on Emma, causing her to stand up a little straighter and the fatigue was starting to ebb.

"Oh no, you have to stop, you're infecting me with your energy!"

"Race you to the kitchen!" Both girls giggled, staring at each other and then, they were off. Sprinting down halls, through rooms, and sliding across floors. They made it, at the shock of one very confused kitchen maid cleaning up for the night. All she could see were two out of breath, giggly girls, each with messy, out of place hair.

"Oh, Mary! I'm so sorry, we didn't mean to startle you."

"We didn't know anyone would be here."

"We just came for something to eat, but we will clean up after ourselves," Emma elbowed Belle.

"Right, absolutely."

The girl smiled wide. "Here, we have some left over chicken." The younger blond moved to the ice box, removing half a bird, placing it in front of them, causing Emma to explain to Belle that the icebox had been spelled as a gift from Queen Elsa. Another Royal she had yet to meet. "Don't worry about the mess, Mistress Emma. Enjoy."

"I will absolutely worry about it." Emma said before taking a bite, and immediately shut up, only making happy noises at the taste and the fact that she was finally eating. Belle wasn't too far behind, and in just a moment, they were giggling like children for absolutely no reason.

"I haven't had this much fun in a very long time, Emma, thank you for inviting me."

"Don't even. The only way I survived was by looking over and seeing that smile on your face, so I should be thanking you."

"Don't pretend, I saw that slow dance with Captain Charm. You were trying so hard not to set your head down on his chest, weren't you?"

Emma bit her lip. "That is a distinct possibility, one which I shall neither confirm nor deny. I was tired. But I keep thinking that the man I see isn't really who he is because... I know he hurt you, and I feel like there's so much to his back story, I don't even know if there's time to learn it all."

"The man I saw tonight was not the same man I met back then. Tonight I didn't see a villain. I saw a man in love. Emma, you don't need to learn his entire backstory to learn who he is _now_. That's what's important."

Emma eyed her new friend, realizing she was right. She changed the subject. "Enough about me, who did you meet?"

Belle let out a breath, contemplating if she should allow her friend to get out of it that easily. She finally chose to give in. "I feel awkward talking about it, he did come here with hopes to court you, after all."

"Is it Dylan?"

"No."

"Then I don't care. Dylan is the only man with a formal invitation that I would consider choosing, so spill."

"_Formal invitation_? Does that mean you're thinking of another?" Emma eyed her, refusing to answer. "Okay, fine. Do you remember Jorie?"

Emma had to think for a moment. "Yes! I thought he was one of the top three most handsome men here. Uhm. Lancelot and Mulan's son, right?"

"I believe so. We didn't talk about parents."

Emma felt giddy. And ridiculous for feeling that way. But she'd never had a female friend before, so she figured why not roll with it. "I don't think I danced with him. Did you get to him first?"

"I think I might have. He was the first one who asked me to dance. But we danced four times."

"That _has _to be a good sign!"

"I never thought I could feel so excited about, well, practically a stranger."

"And since he danced with you, not me, it's a logical thing to say he isn't interested in me anymore."

"You're not mad?"

"Please, I should get you a gift for taking one off my dance card." She sighed, content. "I am so grateful for the clouds."

"I don't think I would have made it down those ridiculous stairs without that enchantment." Belle agreed.

They finished the chicken, talking about the men they had met, who had stepped on their toes, and who would likely be the best kisser out of the group.

"I'm thinking it would be someone... exotic. Like Altair." Emma said, trying not to smile at the thought.

"Aladdin's son?" Emma nodded. "Honestly, I have to bet on your Captain."

"What? Why?" Emma tried not to remember their kiss the day they met. She failed.

"Have you never heard the rumor? He's been living for centuries. A man like that, living for that long, has had lots of practice to perfect his trade."

"Nope, I'm much too exhausted to consider him being even a decade older than me."

"I lived with The Dark One, Emma. Hook was mentioned, more than once. I never got an exact age, of either man, but it was in the hundreds, and I believe the two are fairly close to the same age, especially when you consider how long that really is."

Understanding began to dawn on the young princess. "How old do you think Rumplestiltskin is?"

"I know he was human during the first Ogre Wars."

"No. That would mean Captain Jones would be nearly three centuries. How could he even be human?"

"I couldn't say."

Emma no longer wanted to dwell on that thought. "Did you have a chance to read that book?"

"Yes, but nothing felt relevant. Three sisters, called the Moirai, are basically in control of fate and destiny, going as far as who is born, how we live, and how and when we die. It's really quite interesting. They use a spindle. The one that's in the drawing, I presume."

Things started clicking for Emma. "I briefly saw that drawing."

"So, the strands represent each human life. One of the sisters weaves out the strands, deciding who is even born and what their destiny will be, then another sister measures the strand determining the length of that life, and the last one makes the decisions about a person's deaths. The how, why, when, where."

Emma was shocked. She remembered the first day Regina had shown up, warning them that _fate_ was realigning itself because she didn't cast the curse. She had never imagined that fate could be a person, or in this case, three people.

"Emma? Are you okay?"

"Fate. That's the witch. The witch who took that day from us, she's a fate. But why take our memories?"

"The book was in your room, though. Emma, we must have learned something that led us to it."

"Hook thinks Neal was either here, or close to here when it happened because of how close he was when he woke up, and the people we sent to find him are also missing a day."

"But if Neal was here, and he was a puppet for fate… Emma, what could she have had him do _here_?"

"I don't know." And that was the scariest bit.


	38. Follow Your Heart

**A/N: **Life is not void of pain. Nor is it perfect and clean, and travels in a straight line, no, life is messy. So is any good story, IMO. I've survived, well, quite a lot for my age. And I'm stronger for it. Please read my profile, for more about me... I have updated it, putting myself out there, to address life, and why I write the way I do.

~Follow Your Heart~

In the wee hours of the morning, true to her word, Emma cleaned up after herself. She'd insisted Belle go on up, and argued with Mary the entire time she was tidying. It didn't take her long to clean up. They'd eaten most of it.

Finished with the task, she hazily headed in the general direction of her room. Slowly taking each step, she felt more and more weight on her shoulders. It had been one hell of a day, and it was weighing heavy on her mind. So many names, and faces, all misplaced. She clearly remembered Savas, Dylan, and Captain Jones out of her suitors. So much small talk.

When she made it to the main staircase, she felt a presence. Where? Who? She looked around, wondering. She didn't feel threatened. If anything, she felt more secure. There was something about that presence. Familiarity. Security. Whoever it was, they were close. But who would hide in the shadows like that?

It dawned on her, she mentally kicked herself for not realizing it sooner.

"Hook?" Turning, keeping her head on a swivel, she finally spotted him engulfed in light nearly right behind her. She jumped, hand instantly on her bosom in a futile attempt to stop the rapid beating of her heart. "What are you doing here? Sulking?"

He gave her an incredulous look. "A fierce pirate such as myself never sulks."

Emma groaned. "I'm too tired for this run a round. Just be straight with me."

"I can't exactly explain it."

"Try." She put her hands on her hips, cocking her head at him, shifting her body to lean on one leg over the other

"I just can't shake this… this desire to protect you. I knew you would protest, so I thought it best to stay hidden. Turned out bloody well."

Her gaze softened, and she moved her arms to cross at her waistline. "You know I can take care of myself."

"You don't carry a sword."

"I can wield magick now."

"Magick that you have no idea how to control."

"I know how to use my fists."

"Now that is something I'd like to see."

She scoffed. "Come on, pirate. You may accompany me to my room. This time."

She turned and started walking toward the stairs.

"Thank you, but I wasn't asking for permission."

"And yet you have it, you ungrateful cur!" The poured hotly over her shoulder.

"So that is how you see me, a lowly, aggressive mongrel. Good to know."

"Late. Tired." She waved her hands up in frustration, turning to take the first step up the stairs toward the second floor. She knew he wasn't far behind. "And thank you for the fruit." She rushed the words out before she had time to change her mind.

"My pleasure, love."

"Not your love." Not yet, anyway. "Just how long have you been following me?"

"Not long. A few moments."

"I don't understand you."

"Ask me anything, then."

She made it to the top, and turned right. She was too tired to hold her tongue. "You've gone from flirty, to scoundrel, to genuine and caring. And everything in between. I don't know what to believe about you."

He hooked her arm, causing her to swing around, her momentum causing her to bump into him. Again. He caught her, though this time she wasn't as eager to escape.

"Try your heart. Listen to it, and believe whatever it has to say."

"The heart is illogical, and cannot be trusted."

"So is love, darling. Yet it is always worth the risk. Ask your parents."

Her heart was pounding. Her mind was emptying. Her hand, a mind of its own, had reached for his jaw, feeling the scruff beneath her fingertips. His eyes were piercing into hers, and she knew she was in trouble. If she didn't get her mind back, she wouldn't be able to stop herself.

She didn't want to stop herself. She would just blame her exhaustion.

Her chin tilted up, and his head bent to meet her. He searched her eyes one final time before their lips came together.

Electricity shook through her, causing her body to shiver. This kiss was passion. Both her arms wrapped around his neck, as his arms wrapped around her waist tenderly, pulling her closer at her waist. His tongue lapped at her lips, and the kiss deepened. She felt time slipping from her, and she couldn't get enough of him.

Memories of a day she'd forgotten started resurfacing. She could feel her limbs going weak, falling, before she ever hit the ground.


End file.
